


You're My Loser

by Kate_alexis121314



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Spideychelle - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, PeterxMichelle - Freeform, Spideychelle, god I love these nerds, help I'm obsessed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_alexis121314/pseuds/Kate_alexis121314
Summary: Peter Parker comes to realise that he has a crush on Michelle Jones. Being Peter, he doesn't exactly know what to do with this information. But Michelle sure has a hell of a good time watching him struggle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, readers! Uh, I'm not exactly sure what to say other than; this is my very first fic on AO3 (yay!), and it's also my first time writing a fic about the PeterxMichelle ship! So, I'd like to thank anyone who stumbles upon my writing and decides to try it out! Feel free to leave a comment (I would love some feedback!) Anywho, I'd like to try and post at least once a week if this goes well, so I'll see where it goes from here! 
> 
> (This fic is supposed to take place a few months after Spider-man Homecoming, if anyone was wondering!)
> 
> I'd also like to thank ForASecondThereWedWon for inspiring me to write my own Spideychelle fic after reading "Affinity War" (seriously; they just uploaded the final chapter, so go start from the beginning and read the whole thing... I *highly* recommend it)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Thursday March 7th, 2019. 10:33am, during AP biology with Ms. Ward. This was the exact date, time, and location that Peter Parker realised he liked Michelle Jones as more than just a friend. He almost fell out of his chair at this revelation, and he was pretty sure his skin tone went from “average white boy,” to “ripe tomato.”

Before Liz Allen (AKA: his former crush/fellow academic decathlon member/maybe ex-girlfriend/Peter doesn’t really know, okay?) moved away to Oregon following her criminal father’s incarceration, Michelle Jones (or, MJ, as her friends were told to call her) was just the casual, quick-witted, sharp-tongued classmate who sketched at the back of the room quietly, save for a few smart remarks usually against the dipwad known as Flash Thompson. But after Liz left, things changed. It was like Peter was no longer trapped in his “Liz bubble” (as Ned called it), and he actually began to notice what was going on around him. More specifically, he began to notice Michelle.

Not in a creepy way, no, not at all. He just, without even realising, started to observe small things about her; like the way she kinda bit her bottom lip when she was thinking (it happened a lot). Or how she usually wore her hair in a low ponytail, always leaving a curly strand loose and hanging against the side of her face. Or how she repeatedly had to tuck that same long strand of curly hair behind her ear during decathlon practice. Or how she always sat across from Peter and Ned at lunch, exactly three chairs away; no more, no less. Or how every day she drank the same kind of tea; David’s brand earl grey (Peter had seen the little tag hanging out, and he just happened to read it)

Honestly, his list of observations could go on and on. And it was on this exact day that he suddenly realised he had never really made observations like this about Liz. Sure, he had made mental notes about how pretty she was, or how fast she could correct someone’s wrong answer at a decath meeting, but his brain never went into extreme detail-mode like it did with Michelle. With her, he could describe every single part of her that he found pretty, or exactly how fast she could correct someone’s wrong answer.

He sighed, propping his head up on his closed fist as he stared off into space, lost in thought. He was hopeless; MJ would never like him back. She was so cool, and mysterious, and smart, and gorgeous, and, well, he was just plain-old Peter-

“-Parker!” A loud voice jolted him out of his thoughts, again almost sending him falling out of his chair. He frantically looked up at the source of the voice, his teacher, and followed her finger which was pointed at the board. A few calculations were scrawled out, and below it was an empty line, waiting for his answer. He knew that if he wasn’t distracted by MJ, he would have easily been able to answer the question. But since she was currently totally wrapped up in his thoughts, he couldn’t even speak. He stared at the board in silence.

Ms. Ward sighed. “Focus, please, Peter,” she looked around the class quickly, scanning the few raised hands. “Flash,” she decided.

Peter internally groaned as Flash quickly shot him a smug look before -correctly- answering the question. He slumped down on the desk, head resting on his folded arms, before a small object came whizzing from behind him, and hit the back of his head. He sat up, turning to look at the weapon now seated on his chair; a crumpled-up piece of sketchbook paper. He turned his gaze up to see the culprit, Michelle, sitting in the back corner of the room with a small half-snarky grin on her face.

Peter gave a "what was that for?" Gesture, and Michelle promptly held up her sketchbook, which read in large letters, “pay attention, dummy.”

Peter rolled his eyes, turning back around to face the front, once again resting his head on his arms. He blushed profusely the rest of the period at his inability to get Michelle’s smile off his mind. 

When the bell rang, he quickly grabbed his stuff and raced out of class.

\-----------------------

 

By the time lunch rolled around, he had mostly forgotten about his encounter with MJ. That is until he joined Ned at their usual table in the cafeteria and realised she wasn’t in her normal spot. This was weird; she was always at the table before Peter. He casually glanced around as he sat down beside Ned.

“Hey… do you know where Michelle is?” He asked, as normal as his half-functioning brain would allow him.

Ned shrugged as he chewed his sandwich. “Dunno. Why?”

“Just wondering,” he replied quickly, shrugging, looking down at his lunch tray. As he stared down at the godawful cafeteria food, he felt the urge to tell someone his feelings. 

“I think I like her,” he blurted out. He looked up to see Ned’s reaction, which would have been comical if Peter wasn’t so nervous. His mouth hung open, and he stared at Peter with wide eyes, as if the words that just came out of his friend’s mouth were impossible.

“You like MJ?!” Ned whisper-shouted in shock. Peter quickly shushed him, looking around to make sure no one had heard. He turned back to face Ned, moving closer. 

“Yes, Ned," he paused, and sighed before continuing. "I like MJ,” he admitted, the blush returning back to his face.

“But… why?” Ned exclaimed.”Like I mean I guess she’s okay-looking, but, like, she’s kind of mean and scary, and she someti-mmph!” Peter flung a hand in front of his friend’s mouth to cease him from talking, because MJ had entered the cafeteria and was swiftly heading towards their table.

Ned got the hint and shut up, so Peter slowly took his hand away from his face. As MJ approached, the strangest thing happened; she sat down directly in front of Peter. This never happened. Although she had become better friends with Ned and Peter over the past few months, she still refused to sit with them. Until now?

“‘Sup, dorks,” she said, with a deadpan tone as she dropped her bag on the ground with a loud thud, settling into her chair.

“Hey, MJ!” Both Ned and Peter managed to blurt out at the same time. They looked at each other, then back at Michelle.

She eyed both of them suspiciously, confused by their simultaneous and overly-cheerful greetings. “Okaay, what’s going on?”

“Why are you sitting here?” Ned blurted out, ignoring her question and replying with his own.

She rolled her eyes, sighing, seeming to forget her concern. “God, is this a crime? Am I not allowed to sit here? What is this, “Mean Girls?”” She quipped, an annoyed look on her face, as if she was about to get up and leave.

“No no no,” Peter frantically responded, willing her to stay. “You can sit where you want,” he added, reassuringly.

“I know that,” MJ replied coolly, settling back down and taking a sip of her tea. She was silent for a moment before adding. “I forgot my book today, that’s all,” she shrugged. “Decided I might actually get some entertainment from a conversation with you nerds,”

“Don’t you hear our conversation every day?” Ned asked, confused.

“Observing a conversation and actually taking part in one are two completely different things, Leeds,” she answered.

Ned rolled his eyes and took another bite of his sandwich, muttering something between “don’t call me that,” and “whatever.”

Seeming satisfied with her end of the conversation, MJ took another sip of tea, before turning her blank gaze to Peter. “Are you coming to decathlon practice today?” She asked.

This wasn’t just a random question; with his secret spider-business, Peter often flaked off practices, giving lame excuses such as “May needs help with something,”or “I have to go… Stark internship,” to which MJ always replied with a slightly disappointed “whatever,” and an eye roll.

Of course, MJ didn’t know that Peter was Spider-man. The only people who knew other than The Avengers were Ned and Aunt May, who both found out completely by accident. He couldn’t let anyone else find out. Especially not her.

He suddenly became aware that MJ was giving him a concerned look, as he hadn’t responded to her question yet.

“Oh, uh, yeah I’ll be there,” he quickly stammered, an embarrassed blush forming on his face. 'Dammit', he thought, willing his cheeks to return to a normal colour.

She gave a curt nod. “Good,” she responded, either not noticing or not caring about Peter’s now bright-red face. “We’ll need you even more now that the finals will be coming up soon… so don’t flake,” she muttered, and Peter was pretty sure that he had just received a compliment from Michelle Jones. 

She seemed to realise that, coughing and standing up. “See you later, nerds,” she said quickly, before grabbing her backpack, turning on her heel and swiftly exiting the cafeteria.

Peter and Ned sat in silence for a few moments, before Ned spoke up.

“What just happened?” He asked.

“I have no idea,” Peter replied breathlessly, his face still flushed. Ned smirked.

“Dude, you really like her,”

“Shut up, Ned.”

\-------------------------------------------

 

“Well, I guess you all know it’s getting closer to the finals, and Midtown is going to take home the trophy again,” MJ was declaring, standing behind the small wooden podium at academic decathlon practice. It was after school and Peter had kept his promise, showing up right on time, which was rewarded by a small smile of approval from MJ. A genuine, not-mocking smile. From Michelle Jones. The girl who called him a loser every day and refused to wear anything other than black or grey and flipped him off when he jokingly called her sweet that one time (bad idea).

“Anyway, I’m sure you’re all waiting to hear where we will be going this year, and Mr. Harrington has given me the honour of telling you.” She continued, glancing over at the teacher standing near the door. He gave her a slightly-nervous nod, and she turned back to face her teammates. She opened her mouth to continue, but before she could, Flash’s loud voice interrupted from the back of the classroom.

“Wait, drumroll please!” He shouted, and proceeded to drum his fingers on the desk in front of him. When he got no response, he looked up, dumbfounded, laughing awkwardly. “What, nothing?”

Peter rolled his eyes, turning his gaze back to MJ who sighed, as if she was doing a mental face-palm.

“We’re going to Paris,” she announced, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

The room suddenly erupted with whoops and cheers, most of the students clapping in celebration. Ned gave Peter a side bro-hug.

“We’re going to Paris, France, baby!” He exclaimed loudly with a fist-punch to the air.

Peter laughed, clapping along with the others. He glanced over at MJ, who actually had a slight smile on her face, like she was too happy to contain it. When her gaze landed on Peter, he gave a stupid grin in response, and she looked away, almost embarrassed.

“Alright,” MJ shouted over the noise, and Ned gave a loud whistle to quiet everyone down. She gave him a slight nod of appreciation in response before continuing. “Now, that doesn’t mean we can go sightseeing and eating french food all day. We’re there for a competition, which means we have to leave plenty of room for practising our stuff. Got it?”

The room grew louder again with murmurs of agreement. MJ gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Now, if we really want to win this thing, we have to practice longer and harder than ever. I’m scheduling two extra practices on weeknights now, and each will be a half-hour longer than usual.”

There were no complaints, so she continued her somewhat-motivational speech. Suddenly, a quiet buzz came from Peter’s pocket. He reached in, grabbing his phone, and saw a notification; it was a text from Tony Stark.

 

/Tony (Iron Man) :D : Hey kid, call me. We need to talk./

 

Peter cursed at his boss’s inconvenient timing. At the one practice he tells MJ he won’t miss, of course Tony urgently needs to speak with him.

 

/At decath practice. Will call you when it’s over. Sorry!/ 

 

Peter read over the text quickly and hit send, turning his notifications off, when a voice suddenly made him jump. “Peter,” MJ called out, her voice slightly annoyed. As he looked up, he saw her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she was staring him down, an intense look on her face, one eyebrow cocked. “If I’m boring you, let’s get this practice going, then; when was the Eiffel Tower built, and what is it made of?” She drilled, her focused gaze never leaving Peter’s. 

Peter sighed. Of course she’d choose a Paris-themed question. Thankfully, Aunt May had recently become obsessed with France architecture and culture, meaning she had often sat down with him on the couch, shoving parisian history books in his face until the information had been pretty much burned into his brain.

“Uh, construction started on January 28th, 1887. It’s made of latticed wrought iron,” he answered certainly, smiling. MJ’s eyes narrowed. 

“What purpose was it built for?” She pressed.

“1889 World’s Fair,”

“Why is it made of latticed wrought iron?”

“It’s incredibly strong, but also very light.”

MJ blew a strand of hair away from her face, her level gaze still locked with Peter’s.

She stayed silent.

“Is this interrogation over?” He asked, jokingly.

“I guess,” she replied, unsatisfied. “Just stay focused, loser.” She looked down at her notes, giving a sigh. “Alright, any questions?”

Peter turned as he watched Flash’s hand shoot up in the air. “Yep?” MJ prompted, turning to face him, flipping the hair out of her face to give him an expecting glance.

“Are you and Peter gonna be flirting in Paris too? Or is that strictly for practice?” He asked with a smirk, his question receiving a few small laughs from the rest of his teammates. Peter blushed for the third time that day, but he managed to look up and see MJ’s reaction. She had tilted her head up, giving Flash a blank stare. She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile as she lifted a hand and proceeded to flip him off. 

The students gave a collected, “oooooh,” laughing at Flash’s shocked face. Peter blushed harder, smiling as he stared down at his shoes; MJ hadn’t answered Flash’s question, meaning she hadn’t denied that they were flirting.

 

\--------------------------------------------

 

“Alright, guys, even though the Finals aren’t for another few weeks, we’ll need plenty of time to prepare. Try to make every practice, or I’ll kick your knees in,” MJ had finished the practice exactly two hours later, wrapping it up about as motivational as she could get. As everyone began standing up to leave, Mr. Harrington quickly walked up to the podium as well.

“Um, yes, very helpful, Michelle,” he responded, and MJ replied with a small nod as she reached down to grab her bag. “Please bring your trip forms in asap. If you don’t; you’re not coming,” he continued. “And I won’t be having any stowaways. Not again.” He finished darkly, staring off somewhere in the distance, before stepping off the podium and wandering away.

Peter gave a confused glance, but said nothing. Their teacher was weird; everyone knew that. It wasn’t really something anyone questioned anymore.

“See ya tomorrow, Pete,” Ned said as he passed by. Peter smiled and gave a nod of farewell, but not before they did their bro-handshake.

As Peter reached down to zip up his bag and sling it over his shoulder, he sensed footsteps approaching. He turned to see MJ coming towards him, her hands gripping the straps of her bag where they hung off her shoulders and dug under her arms.

“You’re coming to Finals, right?” She asked, her gaze once again resting intensely on his. 

“Yeah, no, of course,” Peter responded, meeting her gaze. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything,” he added.

“Okay, dork,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I just don’t want you bailing like you did in D.C. that last time. We really could’ve used you,” 

Peter blinked. “But you gave the final answer and won,” he replied.

She snorted. “Thanks, but I didn’t win on my own,” she said, her dark brown eyes moving up again to look at Peter. She brushed the strand of hair away from her face. “So, just, promise me you’ll make it?” She said it casually, like she was trying to quickly wrap up the conversation. But Peter could see the genuine hope in her eyes, and, was that… worry?

When stunned Peter didn’t answer right away, she scoffed again. “Look, Parker, it’s just, I have a lot of stuff going on right now, and the one good thing that I have is being the head of this team. I need to make sure that it’s going to be good. Got it?” She glanced up at him and her eyes scanned his in a way they never had before; she looked almost desperate. She turned her gaze back to the ground, and scoffed, shaking her head. “God, I don’t know why I told you all that. That was stupid”

“No,” Peter blurted out, slightly at a volume he knew was too loud because MJ kind of flinched.

“I, uh, I understand,” he continued at a lower volume, internally cringing at his outburst. But he was telling the truth; often when things got overwhelming with schoolwork, or helping May not be overwhelmed, or dealing with his, um, newfound crush on MJ, he felt the only thing he could truly control was going out and being your friendly, neighbourhood Spider-man. “And, MJ, I promise. I’ll be there.” He gave a small, reassuring, smile. Her gaze softened, but she rolled her eyes.

“God, okay, you don’t need to gush,” Mj snorted. She coughed, clearing her throat. “But thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he replied quietly.

MJ gave him a small smile before glancing down at her phone. “Shit,” she whispered, shoving it in her back pocket. “I gotta go,” she swiftly turned around, taking quick strides away from Peter towards the door.

“See you tomorrow, loser,” she called over her shoulder as she left the classroom

“Bye,” Peter replied. 

But she was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, finally, the second chapter is now posted! To all you lovely people out there who decided to check out the first chapter (all 543 of you, damn), as well as the amazing 47 of those guys and gals who decided to give me kudos, a huge thank you to all of you! Your support really boosts my confidence! *sends 543 virtual hugs*
> 
> Now, I'm sure all of you are wondering (well, I am, at least)...
> 
> What was the issue that Tony just *needed* to talk to Peter about?  
> How will Peter be able to live with himself as his crush on MJ becomes increasingly more intense?  
> Will Peter try to get closer with his friend-turned-crush?  
> Will Ned be a true guy-in-the-chair and help these nerds fall in love?  
> And, possibly the most important question...  
> What the hell is going on with Michelle??
> 
> Well, friends, your questions will be answered soon enough ;) 
> 
> (okay, I really need to stop talking. Go ahead and read, *backs into dark corner, ominously* I'll be waiting :0)
> 
> (OH also these things-> / are supposed to show a text message :))

“Peter! It’s 8:00, you’re gonna be late for school!”

Peter shot up from bed, awakening from his deep sleep to the worried sound of Aunt May’s voice shouting at him. He glanced over at his phone, clicking the home button. It was indeed 8:00 (now turning 8:01 to be exact), the bright numbers displayed on the lockscreen image of him and Ned at Comicon.

'Dammit', he thought to himself, angrily. He had stayed up most of the previous evening, a result of a phone call from Tony after decath practice, saying he needed to meet him to work on some very urgent suit upgrades. They ended up working quite late into the evening, and Peter barely had time to sleep because apparently the whole of New York decided to become criminals overnight. He had to stop at least a dozen different crimes from occuring, one after the other. He had later received a stern talking-to from Aunt May when he returned, which had ended in his fuming aunt threatening to call Tony Stark and tell him that Peter wasn’t allowed to be spidey after school (he’d talked her out of it, thank God). He had ended up going to sleep at exactly 2:28 that morning, and had forgotten to set his alarm. Now, he needed to get up, get ready, and catch the bus within the course of ten minutes.

He jumped out of bed, reaching for a t-shirt that had been thrown on the floor. He pulled it over his head. “Coming!” He shouted a response, muffled by the fabric, and he bent down to grab a pair of jeans, also laying on his floor. He quickly pulled them on, And slug his backpack over his shoulder.

He ran into May as he sped down the hall, nearly tripping on the carpet as he went. She grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him from moving forward. 

“What? I don’t get a goodbye?” She joked, and pulled him into a quick hug. Peter hugged her back and she pulled away, studying his face with a concerned look on her own.

“You okay? You look awful,” she remarked, gently rubbing his forearm in a motherly fashion.

Peter scoffed. “Thanks, May. Really like to hear that,” he rolled his eyes, but leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “I’m fine,” he promised, pulling away. “Now, if you don’t let me go now, I’m gonna be late,”

“Right,” May replied, letting go of his arm. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, turning and starting to quickly make his way to the front door. “Love you!” She called out as he left. 

“Love you too,” he responded over his shoulder, before leaving the apartment and closing the door behind him.

\-------------------------------

“No, wait!” Peter called out, panting, as he reached the bus stop. He had to run three whole blocks and was sure he was going to make it in time, before he noticed the bright yellow bus was already pulling away from the street corner. He knew his feeble attempts at stopping the vehicle were in vain, as the bus was slowly picking up speed while it continued to rumble down the street. He stopped, breathing heavily, as he rested his hands on his thighs, bending his head down to catch his breath. He would now have to walk the remaining eight blocks to the school, which was fine, but he’d probably be late for first period.

“You missed the bus,” a voice remarked in front of him. Peter jerked his head up to see who spoke; and of course, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest and a bored look on her face was MJ. 

Was it possible for her to become even more pretty overnight? Or was it his newfound crush on her playing tricks on his mind? Either way, she looked really good. With the morning sunlight hitting the side of her light-brown face, illuminating her curly hair and making the gold specks in her chocolatey eyes stand out, Peter swore she looked angelic. It wasn’t like she had tried any harder than usual with her look today; she was wearing the same black converse, black ripped jeans, and a white t-shirt decorated with bold, black lettering reading “Prejudice is a burden that confuses the past, threatens the future and renders the present inaccessible.- Maya Angelou”, topped with an unzipped black leather jacket. Her hair was pulled back into its regular messy low-ponytail, with the single strand of curls hanging over the right side of her face. And yet, she was still as gorgeous as ever, if not more so. She blew the hair out of her eyes, waiting for a response.

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” he managed to reply back, panting, standing up straight and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Good, I wasn’t sure, cause you’re standing there like an idiot” she said with a nod, and Peter couldn’t tell if she was being serious or just messing with him, but he didn’t get a chance to reply because she quickly interrupted his thoughts.

“Anyway, care to walk with me?” She offered, squinting as she looked off into the direction of the school, before turning her gaze back to Peter. He gave her a shocked glance, and she rolled her eyes. “ Not like I want you to be a gentleman or anything, nerd. But it would be weird if I purposely walked ahead of you.”

Peter gave a nod, forcing himself not to smile and/or blush; MJ wanted to walk with him to school. “We’re gonna be late, though,” he added, still out of breath.

“I walk fast,” MJ replied briskly, turning on her heel and starting to travel away from Peter. He skipped a bit to catch up. And she was right; she did walk fast. He thought her extremely long legs probably helped. He then forced himself to stop thinking about her legs, because that was creepy.

“So, this is how you get to school right on time every day,” Peter remarked, gesturing to her fast-pace. This was true; she always arrived to homeroom exactly as the bell rang every day, stating that the teachers couldn’t punish her for technically coming right as class started. At the pace they were currently walking at, they would arrive just in time. 

“No,” she responded, and Peter was surprised by the correction. “I always go to the library before school to pick up some new books. The library is on the other side of town, meaning I have to wake up earlier to make it there and to the school right on time,” she continued, shrugging. She paused before adding, “Also because I don’t wake up late and miss the bus. Idiot.”

Peter gave a lopsided smile. “How’d you know I slept in late?” He questioned.

“It’s kind of obvious, Peter,” she turned to look at him, giving a vague gesture towards his face. “Your hair’s a mess, you have drool on your chin, and your eyes are half-shut,” she explained easily, before turning back to face front. “Also your fly’s undone.”

Peter frantically looked down. Shit. She was right. He quickly zipped it up, and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Very observant, Jones.” He remarked.

“I know that, Parker,” she replied, blowing the hair out of her eyes, her gaze still resting ahead of them. “And I told you not to call me that.”

Peter reached up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly. “Right, sorry,” he mumbled, then gave her a questioning look. “Then why do you get to call me Parker?” He asked.

“Because I’m not the loser who missed the bus and is now going to make us late. Hurry up,” she replied coolly, slightly quickening her pace.

He coughed, skipping to catch up, then decided to change the subject. “So! Pick up any books at library today?”

MJ turned her head to face Peter, nodding with slight enthusiasm, as if she was too excited to hide it. This made Peter smile wider. She slid her bag strap off one shoulder, unzipping it and pulling out a stack of books.

“Three, actually;” she corrected, then held them out one by one as she named off the titles. “‘The Second Sex,’ by Simone de Beauvoir, ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’, Margaret Atwood, and ‘Women, race and Class,’ Angela Davis,” she said, holding them up briefly before placing them back in her bag, still walking swiftly down the sidewalk. “I was feeling a bit of extra feminism today,” she admitted, slinging her bag back over her shoulder with a huff of effort.

“I can tell,” he laughed lightly in response, looking down at his hands, “You’ll have to let me know if they’re any good.”

“Oh, I’ve read them already,” she stated with an enthusiastic nod. “Multiple times. They’re works of literary art.”

“Why am I not surprised?” He wondered aloud, turning to face her.

MJ gave a frown, but her eyes were amused. “Don’t be snarky, Peter. It doesn’t suit you,” she responded, and bumped her shoulder against his casually as they walked.

It seemed like it happened so quickly, like their contact was nothing to her, but to Peter… well, he kind of short circuited. Because in the millisecond that their shoulders touched, Peter’s face went bright red, he tensed up, and his brain glitched; he could barely remember how to use basic motor skills to walk properly. He stayed that way until they reached the school.

 

\---------------------------

 

“Peter, no, that’s a horrible idea!”

Ned was currently giving him a concerned look, pausing from eating his sandwich to make his expression even more dramatic.

“What, why not? I think it would be fine,” Peter countered, glancing around the cafeteria to make sure a certain -ah- *someone* hadn’t entered yet. And, yes, she was late again.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Ned sighed, placing down his food. “You want to invite MJ to our movie night tomorrow, so you can, what, hang out with your crush?”

“Yep,” he confirmed with a nod.

“Peter, no,” Ned repeated again, then sighed at Peter’s genuinely confused glance. “Dude, movie nights are bros only. You know that. Even May isn’t allowed to stay and watch.”

“Please, Ned. Just this once?” He asked, a pleading look on his face. “I’ve been meaning to ask her for a while now, cause she’s always helping with homework and stuff, so I thought maybe, y’know...” He lifted his shoulders, shrugging as he tried to find the right words.

“-You could pay her back by ruining a bros movie night and turning it into a Peter-tries-to-show-Michelle-that-he-likes-her night,” he finished dramatically. Peter nodded guiltily. 

Ned sighed. “Okay, fine, but only cause you’re my best friend, and I don’t want you to be depressed.”

Peter smiled, “Really? Awh, thanks, man,” he replied happily.

 

“Don’t get too excited. You owe me,” Ned retorted.

“I know,” Peter replied, the dorky smile still on his face. Both boys turned as light footsteps approached. Of course, it was MJ.

“‘Sup, nerds,” she muttered, sitting down. In front of Peter. Again. For the second day in a row.

“You’re late again,” Ned replied. It wasn't snarky or rude; more just like a casual observance. MJ shrugged.

“I’ve been busy,” she stated, before reaching down to her bag, grabbing a book, and thumbing it open to a bookmarked page. She removed the bookmark and pulled the novel up to her face, already seemingly lost in ‘The Handmaid’s Tale.’

“Alright, then,” Ned responded casually, taking a sip of his chocolate milk. He gave a pointed look from Peter to MJ as he brought the carton to his mouth, widening his eyes as if to say ‘are you gonna ask her or not?’ 

Peter nodded, then cleared his throat. “Uh, MJ?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t be too mad at the interruption.

She glanced up from her book, a blank look on her face.

“Um, Ned and I were going to have a study night and watch a movie on Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to...” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly before he continued. “Y’know, come join us? Cause you always help us study and-”

“What movie?” She interrupted, setting the book down and crossing her arms.

Peter looked at Ned sideways; they hadn’t exactly discussed which movie they were going to watch, and Peter was a bit nervous. He kind of forgot about that part, and he had a sinking feeling he knew what Ned would suggest.

“Star Wars,” he gloated, and Peter groaned internally.

“Great, so, I’d be joining in on your nerd-fest?” MJ asked sceptically, one eyebrow raised.

“We aren’t ‘nerds’,” Ned responded with exaggerated finger-quotations. He lowered his arms. “We’re just strongly invested in the storyline of a young boy becoming the protector of a galaxy.”

“Ned, we’re nerds,” Peter mumbled, resting his face in his hands. Why did he think this would go well? Right; he didn’t. MJ gave Ned a prideful look as if to say ‘I told you so,’ and buried her nose back in her book.

“Sure, I’ll come,” she answered, and Peter lifted his face from his hands. Did he hear her right?

“Wait; you’ll come?” He asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

MJ lifted her face from her book slowly. “...yes? I just said that, Peter,” she replied with a snort.

Peter smiled. “Great, so, come by my apartment around 6:00?” He meant to say this as a statement, but it came out more as a question. Like he wanted to make sure she was okay with that.

“I’ll get there when I can, dork,” she replied curtly, before closing her book, grabbing her bag, and swiping a chip from Peter’s tray. She gave a smug grin before leaving, just as mysterious as she’d arrived.

God, he really liked this girl.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Although MJ made it seem as if she’d arrive late, she actually came at exactly 6:00 the next day. (Well, fine; 6:02, but that’s only because she’d made a quick stop at the library beforehand because she wanted “a backup, in case the movie was too nerdy”). 

She told Peter this the second he opened the front door, as if she needed to immediately find a way to insult his nerdiness. 

He chuckled as he let MJ in, but his stomach flip-flopped; this was the first time MJ had come to his house. He had told her his address at school the previous day, but he hadn’t thought about her actually coming in. He watched her nod in approval and glance around the large apartment before stepping all the way inside. 

“Nice to see you too,” he teased, and he was rewarded by her signature eye-roll and an almost-flip-off, but her gaze landed on Aunt May, and she lowered her hand.

“Oh, you must be Michelle!” May exclaimed happily, moving from where she had been talking with Ned, arms outstretched. Of course, being Aunt May, she’d greet the most hostile teenage girl with a huge hug. Peter winced, but surprisingly MJ didn’t move away. Well, she didn’t exactly return the favour, but she gave a small smile as May pulled back to look at her.

“Oh, you’re hair is beautiful,” May remarked, reaching out to tuck a curly strand behind her ear.. “Isn’t it, Peter?”

Peter went the darkest shade of red he’d ever been. May didn’t see, as she had her back to him, but MJ definitely saw and gave him a small smirk. May didn’t wait for an answer.

“You know, you’re the first female friend Peter has had since he was in diapers,” she continued on, and Peter willed her to stop talking.

“Must not have been that long ago, then,” MJ responded casually. Peter’s jaw dropped, Ned spat out the water he had taken a sip of, and May let out a loud laugh.

“I like this one, Pete,” she snorted, then sighed. “Nice to meet you Michelle,” she added, smiling.

“Nice to meet you, too, May,” MJ replied with a smile. “But, uh, you can call me MJ,” she murmured, pushing more hair behind her ear.

“Oh, a nickname!” May responded, picking up her purse and pointing a finger at MJ, nodding. “I like it,”

Peter chuckled to himself. Well, their meeting could have gone better, but it could have also gone a lot worse. He lifted his head as May cleared her throat.

“Anyway, I should get going; don’t want to crash your movie night. There’s popcorn in the cupboard and coke in the fridge,” she continued, moving towards the door. She turned to face the three teens, stopping in the doorway. “Now, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. I love you all, be safe, and have fun!” She finished, blowing a kiss in their direction and closing the door behind her.

“Love you too!” Ned called out, waving as she left. Peter rolled his eyes; sometimes it felt like May was Ned’s aunt, too.

“I like her,” MJ stated casually, walking over to Peter and Ned. “Now, where are we going to study? We need to start now if we’re going to have time for that movie, too. I searched it up; it’s long.” She reached over Ned to grab an M&M from the bowl May had left out, and popped it in her mouth.

“MJ, we know,” Ned scoffed, taking another swig from his water, before setting it down and giving her a bragging glance. “We’ve seen it like, 20 times.”

“And that is why you are a huge nerd,” MJ stated, pointing a finger at Ned. She swiveled her hips to face Peter, and directed her finger at him too. “You too, Peter. Or should I call you Pete?” She teased.

“Please don’t,” Peter groaned. “We can study in my room. Are you coming, or are you just going to keep mocking me?”

“I like the second option, honestly,” she remarked, grabbing a handful of M&M’s before following Peter down the hall to his room. Ned trailed behind, picking up the entire bowl of candy as he went.

Peter smiled to himself and shook his head. He couldn’t help but wonder… were they flirting again?

 

After an excruciatingly boring two-and-a-half-hours of doing nothing but review science notes, they decided it was time to take a break. MJ made it clear that she’d be incredibly disappointed if the movie sucked, establishing this as they made their way into the living room.

“I swear, if I end up wasting 2 hours and 5 minutes of my life watching this when I could be doing something way more productive with my time, you nerds owe me,” she stated, pausing with her arms crossed as Peter picked up the popcorn and Ned grabbed the cokes. In her own hands, MJ held her sketchbook, clutching it in her folded arms.

“You won’t regret this,” Peter reassured her as he passed by, leading them to the living room.

“I already do,” she groaned dramatically. She stopped to let Peter and Ned plop down on the couch, before sinking down between them, shimmying to get comfortable. Peter desperately tried to ignore the fact that their thighs and shoulders were now touching, side-by-side, and also not think about the fact that he could clearly smell MJ’s shampoo, cucumber, he assumed. The smell was now wafting up to his nostrils. It smelled good.

“We gonna start, or what?” MJ prompted, propping her feet up against the coffee table in front of them and opening her sketchbook. Peter nodded, reaching over to grab the remote. He quickly flipped through the streaming site and easily found ‘Star Wars: A New Hope’, to which Ned gave a ‘whoop’ and MJ snorted. Peter clicked play, and leaned back into the couch.

 

A mere ten minutes into the movie, MJ had already sketched out and shaded a drawing of R2D2, complete with a tiny speech bubble reading “beep-boop”.

Peter smiled as he looked over her arm to get a better view of the droid. “That’s really good, MJ,” he remarked.

“It’s creepy to watch someone draw, Parker,” she murmured, still focused on looking from the T.V. screen to her sketchbook. “But thanks,” she added.

“You should draw me as a Jedi,” Ned piped in from the other side of the couch, still shoveling popcorn into his mouth, his gaze never leaving the television.

“What, no,” she refused, furrowing her eyebrows. “I don’t take requests.” She turned and elbowed him in the stomach. “Also; move over. You’re crushing me here, Leeds.”

“Ow, fine,” he protested, giving MJ an insulted look before reluctantly scooting slightly farther over. “But I’m pretty sure Peter enjoyed the fact that you’re basically pressed right against h-”

“Pay attention to the movie, I can’t hear over your extremely loud voice,” MJ cut him off coolly, seemingly unfazed by Ned’s accusations. Peter stared down at his socked feet, feeling his ears grow hot and the back of his neck become increasingly more damp. Suddenly a ringtone went off, and Peter could tell it was coming from MJ’s pocket. Grumbling, she reached back to grab it.

“You’re shitting me-” she paused.”Dammit; it’s my dad.” She looked up, and Peter could swear he saw a flicker of worry flash across her eyes, which sent an uncontrollable shiver down his spine. That look was more than just a my-dad’s-gonna-kill-me-if-I-don’t-answer-this-now glance, but something more than that; it was genuine fear.

“Uh, can I use your bathroom?” She asked quickly, standing up and gesturing towards her still-ringing phone.

“Oh, yeah, of course; down the hall, last door,” he replied, and she gave a nod of thanks before quickly hitting the green “accept call” button, and leaving the room.

Peter and Ned sat in silence for a bit, before Ned spoke up. “What do you think that’s all about?” He wondered aloud.

“No idea,” Peter responded breathlessly. He had been wondering the same thing; did it have to do with what she talked about after decath practice a few days ago? She had said she had a lot going on, but she hadn’t specified what exactly.

After a few minutes, she returned to the living room, a slightly relieved look on her face.

“Is everything okay? Do you have to leave now?” Peter assumed.

She shook her head, physically waving off his concern with a flick of her hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I just have to be back by 11:00, that’s all. Let’s finish your nerd-movie.” She sat back down on the couch, ending the discussion, but behind her relaxed tone Peter could still tell something was bothering her. But what? He shrugged it off. If she wanted to tell him, she would. He didn’t want to pry. MJ’s voice suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

“Ned, what the hell, you ate all the popcorn?”

“I was hungry!” Came Ned’s protesting reply.

“”Hungry” my ass… we’ve been watching for barely 20 minutes!” MJ shot back.

“Shh, ‘I can’t hear the movie over your loud voice,’” he mocked in response.

She proceeded to whack Ned with her sketchbook.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Peter suddenly jerked awake to the sound of a crash. He looked around quickly, whipping his head from left to right, before realising it was the left-on TV. He sighed, relaxing back into the couch. They had all fallen asleep; Ned was seated on the floor, his head lolled back and resting on the cushions of the couch. MJ had literally kicked him off about halfway into the movie, becoming increasingly more annoyed as he disregarded her personal space. It was the last straw when he reached his leg up to rest on the coffee table next to hers, and his foot briefly pressed against MJ’s. He was pushed to the floor within the next millisecond. That was why he was now asleep, leaning against the couch, on the ground, snoring with his mouth wide-open. As for Michelle…

Well. That’s a whole other story.

Peter went wide eyed and tried his hardest not to jump in surprise as he suddenly looked down to MJ; she was also asleep, her legs tucked in and to the side, the sketchbook filled with half-finished drawings in her lap. But her head had dropped down and was now involuntarily resting lightly on Peter’s shoulder.

On.

Peter’s.

Shoulder.

Yes, really. Peter couldn’t believe it either. He took a sharp inhale and bit his lip to stop himself from grinning like an idiot. With her cheek against his shoulder, her beautiful, curly hair that May was so fond of was now tickling his nose, the cucumber scent even more prominent. But under the scent of shampoo, he could smell something that was almost a mixture of an old bookstore, fresh linen, and something metallicy and mysterious. And he liked it even more than the cucumber. He resisted the urge to press his face further into her hair, because that would have been creepy, and he was pretty sure she already thought he was weird. (newsflash; he wasn’t wrong)

In between Ned’s loud snoring and the noises from the TV, he could hear soft breaths coming from MJ’s mouth, and felt the warmth as they gently billowed against his chest every time she exhaled. He was about to focus on her gentle breathing, when suddenly another loud noise came from the TV, waking Ned with a scream. He glanced around the room, wide-eyed and panting, before his gaze rested on Peter, then MJ, the back to Peter.

Peter quickly pressed a finger against his lips, gesturing towards the sleeping girl, but it was too late; MJ quickly sat up, seemingly unfazed by the fact that she had just used Peter as a human pillow, instead affected (and quite frankly, annoyed) more by the fact that Ned had just abruptly woken her up.

“Holy shit, Ned, I thought someone just died,” she mumbled, yawning as she rubbed her face lazily. She stretched her arms out before she suddenly stopped, her eyes fully opening. “What time is it?”

Peter quickly reached over and clicked on his phone, remembering her curfew. Ned paused the movie. “Uh, 11:18,” he said, panicked as he looked up to see MJ’s reaction.

“God dammit,” she hissed, grabbing her sketchbook and shooting straight up. “I gotta go,” she quickly made her way over to the front door. Peter stood up and trailed after her.

“Uh, May should be home any minute now, you can wait for her to give you a ride?” Peter suggested quickly. He didn’t want her to go home alone.

“No, it’s fine, I live like two blocks away,” she replied as she tugged on her converse, cursing as she failed to pull the heel over the back of her foot. She stood up straight, grabbing her bag off the floor and stuffing her sketchbook inside. “Thank her for having me, though.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Peter replied with a nod. Should he walk her home, or…?

“Alright, see you losers Monday,” she said, pulling open the front door with a wave, before letting it fall closed behind her as she left. Suddenly, Peter raced forward, grabbing the door and propping it open. MJ stopped, turning around and gave Peter an eyebrow-raised glance.

“I should probably get your number,” he stammered, blushing. “Y’know, to make sure you get home safely?” He knew she wouldn’t accept an offer to walk her home, (y’know, chivalry isn’t exactly something MJ was a "fan" of; she didn't need his gentleman-like assistance) so he decided this would be fine.

She gave a cocky smile. “Is this how Peter Parker normally gets girls’ numbers?” She asked, crossing her arms across her chest and tapping her foot impatiently.

Peter went cold. “What? N-no, I just mean tha-”

“I’m joking, you idiot,” she sighed, exasperated. She held out her hand. “Pass me your phone; I’ll put my number in.”

Peter clumsily handed her his phone smiling with relief, and she quickly punched in her digits. She shoved it into his hands before swiftly turning to leave.

“Thanks for the movie; it didn’t totally suck,” She called over her shoulder as she left down the hallway. “We’ll finish it another time!” She added, and her echoing voice slowly went silent as the door shut, closing the void between them 

Peter stood there for a moment, silent, and his lips turned up in a grin, repeating her words over and over in his mind. 

'It didn’t totally suck.' 

 

\-------------------------------------

 

After Ned was picked up a few moments later, Peter decided to take the chance to see how MJ was doing. He flopped back onto his bed, and tapped on his contacts. He easily found her name at the top and he was happy to see she had put her contact as “MJ”, instead of just Michelle. He wondered whether he should add an emoji or something to make it more interesting, but he thought that would be unnecessary and probably strange, so he decided against it

He took a deep breath, and chose his words carefully, which seemed weird for a text, but this was Michelle after all. He had to make a good first-text impression.

 

/Did you get home okay?/

 

He decided that was fine, and only had to wait a few moments before she replied.

 

/MJ: Well, I’m not dead, so that’s something. Hi to you too, loser./

 

He wanted to kick himself. Why did he forget to say hi first? He took another deep breath. Be cool, Peter.

 

/Well, that’s good. Can’t have our team captain dying before Finals. Was your dad mad?/

 

He was genuinely curious; she seemed incredibly scared when she found out she was past her curfew… he hoped she was okay.

 

/MJ: I snuck in through the window, but my dad saw me. I’m gonna get my ass beat tomorrow; he was too tired to do it tonight, I guess. Idk. I’m probably grounded./

 

/Oh no… how are you supposed to get to the library and read if you’re grounded?? :0/

 

/MJ: Shut up. But that reminds me: I have something important to talk to you about. Can you meet me in the school library before first period on Monday?/

 

  
Peter stared at his phone in disbelief. MJ wanted to talk to him about something? His eyes were wide in surprise. He was taking too long to respond and was worried she would take back her request, so he quickly typed his response.

 

/Sure, I’ll be there./

 

/MJ: Good. Oh, and don’t bring Ned./

 

Peter laughed.

 

/Bold of you to assume that Ned just automatically comes everywhere I go./

 

/MJ: Am I wrong?/

 

/Never./

 

/MJ: That’s a smart answer, Pete. See you Monday./

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there you have it; the second chapter of You're My Loser! (Extremely sorry; I have not seen Star Wars in AGES, so my descriptions and such in that area are probably slightly off) Like I said before, I have a good idea of where I want this story to go, but feel free to suggest some things you'd like to see me write! I'll gladly add in any suggestions that don't interfere much with my already-set plotline! As always, thank you for reading, and I hope to hear some feedback! (likes, dislikes, favourite part, etc.) Now to work on chapter 3! *taps fingertips together mischievously*
> 
> (Sorry, this chapter didn't have much character interactions besides PeterxMJxNedxMay, so I promise there will be more in the next chapter!)
> 
> (hmm Michelle seems to be hiding something... and what does she want to talk to Peter about? Damn, this girl is mysterious!)
> 
> (uh, sorry folks, ignore the note below... it won't let me delete it)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I come to you with the third chapter!! So sorry, this took WAY longer than expected, but things are getting a bit crazy with the school year coming to an end, final assignments due, etc, etc. BUT I promise I'm working super hard on You're My Loser! Not just so I can post it, but also because I really do enjoy writing! It's almost like an escape from reality when I can just zone out and write about these nerds.
> 
> ALSO, oh my god, thank you so much for 67 kudos, 7 bookmarks, and and a whopping 796 hits. I'm honestly speechless. Thank you so goddamn much. I love every single one of you *sobs* *aggressively yeets my affection*
> 
> Well, anywho, I'm super excited about this chapter! I personally think it's my best one yet! I promise you guys will FINALLY get to know what's up with our girl, and what in God's name she wants to talk to Peter about. Alone. (ok, no, c'mon guys, I didn't intentionally make that sound sexual. But honestly, at this point, who knows?)
> 
> Uh, with this chapter I kinda just started writing and didn't stop for like, an hour. So this just went where my brain decided to go (trust me; that's a very interesting and confusing place) so I hope y'all are delightfully surprised by the turn of events!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, also; I finally figured out how to use rich text so now you can actually see the italics and such ;) (I suck at technology, please don't judge me)
> 
> Now, carry on!

  
  
Since MJ didn’t text him again at all for the remainder of the weekend, Peter wasn’t exactly sure what time to meet her on Monday morning. He would have asked, but by the time he remembered, it was hours after they had previously messaged each other. He didn’t want to seem, I don’t know, desperate? (yes, he’s a self-conscious little shit about things like this.)        

So, that’s why Peter had woken up an hour earlier than normal to make sure he had enough time, and was currently heading over to Midtown Tech at 7:00 on a Monday morning. (he would have asked May for a ride, but she of course would’ve questioned his early departure, and he really didn’t want to have to explain that he was meeting a girl. Instead, he left a note the kitchen table and called it a day.) 

Although he was up extremely early, NYC was already bustling with people, cars, and cabs. Half-asleep Peter almost got mowed down by a cyclist, though you’d think his spidey-powers would give him heightened awareness of his surroundings. (Maybe so, but not when he had stayed up most of the previous night thinking about a certain teenage girl).

He finally made it to the school (mostly unscathed), and jogged up the stairs to the basically-empty school. He quickly glanced down at his phone, but saw no notifications. He took this as good news, meaning MJ wasn’t looking for him. He pushed through the front doors and continued on towards the library. Sure enough, sitting by herself at the table near the back of the library, nose buried in a book, was Michelle Jones. Her hair was down for the first time in what seemed like forever, and, oh God, did Peter like it. Her chocolate-brown locks framed her face and shoulders in small ringlets that went slightly frizzy at the ends. The hair that normally swooped across the side of her face was held back by a single bobby pin. The phrase was probably hella outdated, but Peter had to admit; she looked ravishing.  Peter smiled, and he quickly made his way over. Engrossed in her book, she seemingly didn’t notice the teenage boy approaching her.

“‘Women, race, and class’?” He mused, tilting his head to the side slightly to read the title, stopping in front of MJ. Her head shot up from the book, wide-eyed, as if he had surprised her. “Already finished ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’?”

“Finished it Friday night,” she replied with a huff, placing her book down on the table, her expression returning to its usual bored gaze. “Morning, loser.”

“Morning,” he murmured a reply, pulling over a chair and taking a seat across from her. “So… you wanted to talk?” He prompted, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yes, actually,” she responded crossing her arms and resting them on the table. She hesitated before continuing. “Uh, so, my mom’s sister, my aunt, is getting married next weekend. It’s gonna be small, just at that banquet hall down the road from the school, but everyone’s being forced to bring a “date”, per say. An escort. A “plus one”. Bride’s orders,” she explained.

Peter stared at her with a blank expression. She sighed. “Jesus Christ, Peter, I’m asking if you’ll come with me. Not as my date, but so my parents will stop nagging me to find someone,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

Peter’s eyes grew wider. MJ wanted him to be her date to the wedding. “You… want me…. to…” Peter managed to get out, his jumbled brain unable to get out a full sentence, let alone fully comprehend what MJ was saying.

“Dammit, Peter, I just want you to escort me to the fucking wedding!” She exclaimed, and Peter could tell by the exhausted look on her face that she was starting to deeply regret the invitation. God, why was he such an idiot sometimes?

“Yes!” He blurted out, then coughed. “Um, yes. Wedding. I want to. Go. With you, I mean,” he smiled like a dork, blushing profusely. MJ sighed with relief.

“Okay, good. Thank God. My mom’s been on my case ever since she told me I needed a male guest. I  _ may _ have been incredibly stupid and jokingly asked if I could invite a girl, and I think she’s pretty convinced that I’m a lesbian,” she said, cringing. Peter laughed.

“Homophobic parent problems?” He guessed.

“Well, I’m not gay myself, but let’s just say my mom and dad aren’t exactly allies with the LGBTQ community,” she replied with a snort, making Peter smile. She grew serious again. “So you mean it? You’ll come?”

Peter nodded. “I have to ask May, but I’m sure it’s fine,”

“Cool,” MJ murmured, lifting up her book again. “I’ll text you with the details if you can,” she added, the turned her gaze back to Peter. “Which you’d better be able to, Or else I’ll have to take, like, Ned or something. Or get Betty to go and deal with the consequences.”

Peter grinned. “What about Flash?”

She glared in response. “I’d rather take  _ Mr. Harrington  _ with me instead of that dipshit, thanks,” she retorted, and with that she buried her nose back in her book and continued to read.

  
  


\---------------------------

 

This conversation with MJ had left him more flustered than he’d care to admit, which was why Peter was now standing in his kitchen after school, in front of a  _ very _ confused May, desperate for some advice from his somewhat wise Aunt.

“Peter, what?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow. She had been cooking dinner but stopped when she noticed he had been standing behind her for a good 30 seconds without talking. She knew something was up.

He looked down at his socked feet, noticing now that they didn’t match; one white, one blue. He looked back to May. “Uh, so, MJ- well, Michelle -who you met the other day, is going to this wedding and everyone invited gets a plus-one, and she said her parents are forcing her to bring a male “date”, I guess, and she wants to know if I’ll come as her friend?” He blurted out.

May held her confused gaze on Peter. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this conversation. “Okaaaay,” she drew out the word, long and drawn out, as if she was trying to figure out what he was getting at in the time it took her to pronounce it. “Peter, I’m fine with that. Why are you so nervous? Michelle seems like a very nice gir-” she suddenly stopped, her eyes widening in sudden realization. “Oh. Oh, Peter. You like her, don’t you?” She exclaimed loudly, grinning.

Peter attempted to shush her but failed greatly, as she rushed over, squealing in excitement. Peter rolled his eyes and groaned. No point in denying it now.

“Oh, Peter, this is so exciting! And she’s perfect; witty, creative, artistic, not to mention has a great sense of humour,” she gave a wink before continuing, hinting towards her previous jokes at his expense. “And, honestly, I have to admit I like her much better than that Liz. It seems like you two actually get along well an-”

“May!” He shouted abruptly, and she jumped back in surprise. He lowered his voice. “Calm down, she doesn’t even like me back,” he muttered lamely.

She gave a small sympathetic smile, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t know for sure,” she responded simply, before the corners of her mouth turned up in an evil grin. “But if so, we’re gonna have to change that.” She gave a mischievous wiggle of her eyebrows, and Peter groaned again. “I’m going to find you the  _ sexiest  _ suit in all of Queens,” she said with a smirk, shimmying her shoulders as she walked away.

“Mayyy, stoppp,” Peter groaned for the third time, resting his elbows on the island and burying his face in his hands. His face burned with discomfort as May happily hummed away, but he couldn’t help but smile to himself; what if this could make MJ like him? May was definitely crazy more often than not, and her plans were often flawed, but he had faith in her suit-choosing abilities.

And oh God, did he hope he was right about that.

 

\------------------------------------

Peter wasn’t exactly sure what to say to MJ after the wedding invitation fiasco; lunches had become increasingly more uncomfortable for Peter in particular, and MJ just seemed to grow more and more suspicious as his dork-meter skyrocketed (she worded that herself). Ned, on the other hand, was oblivious to the whole thing, his annoyance at the non-existent wedding invitation for himself pretty much overpowering everything else. (And throughout all this, May was still determined to find the perfect suit for her nephew) 

This is why Peter was pretty happy to receive a text from none other than Michelle Jones on the following Thursday night. He was hoping for a random topic to pop up, something that had happened more frequently in the previous week than in the recent days. The subjects often ranged quite dramatically; from discussing possible nicknames to use against Ned (Peter’s top favourite being “Red Ned Redemption” after their friend’s sudden interest in the western video game) to why quantum physics should be an available class in their grade (which honestly made MJ a thousand times  _ more  _ attractive to Peter -if that was even possible- because her intelligence was super intimidating).

But, to Peter’s surprise, her text had nothing to do with either subjects.

 

_ MJ: Hey. I need your help. Idk who else to talk to. _

 

He literally did a double-take at the text message .  Michelle Jones who seemingly did everything herself and never went a day without stating that women are perfectly capable of taking matters into their own hands, needed his help?

  
  


_ Yeah, of course. What ’s up? _  
  


_ MJ: Can’t explain. Just come to my house. Preferably now. _

  
  


Peter forgot how to breathe. His limited brain functions allowed him to obtain her address and the specific instructions to meet at her window, but anything more complicated seemed too hard. Michelle. Wanted. Him. To. Come. Over.

So, since he knew this was probably a once-in-a-lifetime-thing, he gave himself a mental slap to the face and snuck out through his own window. He had already been out late that night for spidey-things, so May probably wouldn’t be happy that he was leaving again. Thank God she was already asleep. He slipped out his window onto the fire escape, and made his slow but eventual descent into the night.

Although it was spring, the air was surprisingly  _not_  freezing-cold. His breath came out it small, visible puffs of air, and he was definitely glad he decided to throw on a sweater before leaving, but other than that, he enjoyed the calming wind on his face, and the way the cool breeze seemed to seep into his veins, exhilarating him. Although, that rush of adrenaline was probably just because he was going to his crush’s house for the first time ever. At night. Alone. 

Her apartment complex was pretty close; only about three blocks away, so he arrived in approximately ten minutes (okay, fine, closer to five because he  _ maybe  _ scaled a building or two using his spidey-abilities to get there faster. Totally not just so he could see MJ sooner. He thought about the “bae: my parents aren’t home” memes, and he cringed because they were 100% not dating, and they would definitely not going to be doing the, uh, activities referred to in those conversations)

Peter reached the building, and as quietly as possible he started his ascent up the fire escape ladder. MJ was on the 7th floor, so he had quite a few stairs to take, and he definitely didn’t want her to catch him using his spidey-powers to make his journey quicker. 

His shoes made small clanging noises as they lightly slapped against the metal stairs with every step. He passed the rows and rows of windows and small balconies, casually glancing at each one as he passed. Inside one, a middle-aged man was watching hockey whilst drunkenly yelling at the players. In another, a young woman was fretfully cooking (and burning) a meal. Another, three children were shrieking at God knows what, and Peter winced at the high volume, and he sped up to escape the noise.

Eventually, he reached the seventh floor, panting from the effort. He looked up, and there in front of him stood MJ, an unimpressed eyebrow cocked, arms folded in front of her chest, with one hip popped to the side. She had been leaning against her window, before standing up to move closer. He realized this was now the second time she had seen him exhausted and slightly disheveled, and he groaned internally, before standing up straight and giving a dorky smile.

She didn’t smile back. Well, he didn’t exactly expect her to. This  _ was  _ MJ after all. She merely gave him a quick once-over before turning her gaze out to the night sky.

“I have to admit; I was prepared to reprimand you for being late. Turns out Peter Parker likes to show up incredibly early when he wants to,” she muttered, slight amusement lacing her dead-pan tone. Her dark-brown eyes locked with Peter’s. God, he could get lost in that stare. “And why don’t you use this to make it to decath practice on time?” She questioned, taking a step closer. So close that, if he wanted to, Peter could lean over and kiss her (trust me; he wanted to). “Got something you’re hiding, Peter? Or just wanted to see me sooner?”

Peter’s ears grew hot. He really didn’t want to admit that it was all of the above. He gulped. “I walk fast,” he offered lamely, and MJ squinted. He gulped again. Did she- no, she couldn’t. How could she know? He always tried his absolute hardest to keep his secret identity, well,  _ a secret. _

“Alright. Well. let’s go,” MJ replied with a shrug, and Peter could tell that she didn’t fully believe him. She stepped back, and beckoned him forward with her hand. 

“...go?” Peter echoed, confused. Go where?

“Uh, yeah?” MJ replied with a snort. She pointed a finger upwards. “To the roof. C’mon.” She turned and, grabbing onto the handrail, started towards the roof. 

Peter blinked, before coughing awkwardly and started to follow her, a few steps behind. He looked up meekly, watching her climb. He noticed she was wearing the classic blue-and-yellow Midtown Tech hoodie, which was a size too big, hanging past her hips, cinching slightly at her thighs. Underneath, she wore a pair of simple black pajama shorts that barely made it halfway to her knees. Peter quickly looked away, feeling his face grow warmer yet again. He forced himself to calm down. For fucks sake, Peter, she’s just wearing her pajamas like any normal human being.            

But she wasn’t just any normal human being. This was MJ. 

Who was currently wearing her pajamas. 

In front of Peter.

Before he got a chance to do something stupid, like somehow fall off the fire escape in pure shock, or compliment MJ’s choice in clothing, they reached the roof. MJ padded lightly across the cold ground, making her way towards an already set-up picnic blanket. She sat cross-legged, patting the spot beside her, jokingly inviting Peter to sit. As he joined her on the ground, he could see the amusement in her gaze was covering something else. Something darker.

Peter really didn’t want to ask what was wrong, though he was reallly wondering why he had been invited here in the first place. He scratched the back of his neck. Contemplated talking about the wedding. Decided against that. It would be weird. Coughed. He finally settled on:

“So… you come up here often?” He asked, gesturing towards the blanket underneath him. She seemed quite familiar with the rooftop. She snorted in reply, before ducking her head, and clearing her throat. “Uhm, yeah,” she murmured quietly, brushing a piece of hair away from her eyes. She lifted a hand, gesturing towards the seemingly-endless sky above them. “I like watching the stars. It’s calming. Comforting,” she admitted, and turned her gaze back down to the ground with an embarrassed half-smile.

Peter grinned, following her gaze up to the sky, and letting his eyes follow the paths and patterns that the stars formed. It was mesmerizing. Almost as incredible as getting lost in MJ’s eyes.

Almost.

Peter peered over at her, tilting his head to the side. “‘Comforting’?” He echoed. He wasn’t sure what to expect as her reply, and was met with silence. He watched as she nervously played with her sweater strings, and pulled the bottom of her shirt over top of her thighs. His heightened senses detected an rapid increase in her heartbeat. She was nervous.

“My father’s an alcoholic,” she blurted out suddenly, not meeting Peter’s eye. He stared at her in surprise.

“Comes home drunk. A lot,” she continued quietly. “And he and mom argue. All the time. When he’s sober, it’s worse, because he knows what he’s saying to hurt her, and he’s aware of what he does. And it’s not always just words… when he’s mad, he’ll throw things. Only when he’s super wasted. He hit my mom with a plastic vase once. She was fine and he claims it’s accidental, though,” she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. It wavered slightly as she tilted her head up to look at Peter, and he saw the hurt and the pain in her eyes. He realized how vulnerable she was being. How much of her life she was currently exposing to him. But her words made him so sad he couldn’t even feel pride in that. “And I don’t really know what to fucking do about it, Parker,” she mumbled, looking away.

They sat in silence for a while, the only noises being the occasional chirp of a cricket, and the cars rumbling by down below. Peter shifted his legs, glancing in MJ's direction.

“MJ, I…” he said finally, turning to face her. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea…” he trailed off. She gave a half-hearted smirk, but her eyes displayed how upset she was.

“Yeah, no shit,” she responded lightly.

“Seriously. I’m glad you told me,” he replied honestly, his eyes wide. “Can’t you, like, call the police or something?”

She shook her head. “No, all they’re gonna do is haul him off to a rehab centre like they did last time. In 6 months, he’ll be back again, as drunk as ever. And, technically, it's not like he'd done anything illegal, or whatever,” she murmured, then suddenly looked up at Peter, with intense desperation clouding he gaze. She bit her lip. “I just- wanted to talk to someone about it. And I thought you’re a pretty good person to talk to. Just, please, Peter; don’t tell anyone else about this, okay?” Her voice was firm, but the pleading look in her eyes gave away everything. “Please.”

“Okay, okay, of course,” he responded with a nod. He hesitated before continuing. “But if he does _ anything  _ to hurt you-”

“He won’t,” she cut him off quickly. “I’ll be fine,” she gave a small, nod and widened her eyes. “Okay? I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

“Now, please, can we talk about something else? My parents are currently arguing downstairs and I really don’t need to be reminded of that,” She replied with a small huff.

Peter gave a nod. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he murmured awkwardly, before giving a half-hearted smile. “Soooo, asked Flash to that wedding yet?”

“Oh my God, stop,” he replied with a loud laugh, making Peter smile.

  
  


\------------------------------------

 

They spent almost the whole night talking; about nothing and everything. MJ pointed out constillations. Peter described May’s huge obsession with Paris, and how jealous she was of the decath team who were going in a few weeks. They talked about their future, and what they wanted to do after high school. They talked until the red sun started to come up on the horizon, tinting the sky a light pink colour, making Peter gasp, because he suddenly realized he should have been home way earlier than now. Really, he wasn’t even supposed to be out at all, but he wasn’t about to mention that to MJ.

Once Peter left, after having said a goodbye to MJ and receiving a small, reluctant (yet genuine) thanks in return, the sky was already starting to grow brighter, so he resorted yet again to scaling the buildings ahead of him. He made it home in record time (2.015 minutes exactly), and immediately (and stealthily, might I add) entered his bedroom through the unlocked window, dove into bed, fully clothed.

May didn’t even realize he was gone. 

Before he went to bed, he recieved one final text from MJ.

 

_ MJ: Thank you, Peter. For y’know listening to all that. _

 

Peter was pleasently surprised by the compliment, but was concerned by the lack of name-calling or teasing in the text… was she okay? He got increasingly more nervous as the seconds passed by, until he felt another buzz.

 

_ MJ: But seriously, if you tell Ned, I swear to God I’m going to break both of your fucking ankles. Nerd. _

 

There it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nope, I don't know where the wedding idea came from either. I honestly just felt like MJ needed to ask Peter a favour at some point, then Peter (obviously) would forget how to function, go into intense nerd-mode, then blurt out a response to a very unimpressed MJ. Fun times for these two.
> 
> And, yep. I gave MJ a somewhat alcoholic dad. (he's really misunderstood tbh). I really wanted to add some depth to her character/personal life, and give a possible reason why she's so standoffish/not exactly the friendliest person. I like the idea of Peter being her personal comfort-human, and her feeling comfortable enough to unload all this family drama on him. These nerds, I can't even with them. They're perfect for each other. Honestly, at this point I'm just making Peter as much of a clueless dork as I possibly can when he's around MJ, and her just being so amused but so done with his nerdy-antics, because it sounds pretty accurate to me.
> 
> Stay tuned for chapter four! Hang in there, friends, it will be done shortly! (Huge thing planned for the wedding... super excited ;) ) *laughs evilly* 
> 
> Ok, I really need to stop talking. These notes are like fics themselves (I'm so sorry)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD, WE'VE SURPASSED 100 KUDOS!
> 
> Honestly, I seriously can't thank you guys enough. You truly are the best. From the bottom of my cold, dead, heart (Only kidding; PeterxMJ keeps me going) I wanna say a sincere thanks; I truly appreciate all of your support, including your insanely sweet and endlessly kind comments. It makes my day, guys!!! And as a brand new writer here on A03 (a little fish in a big sea, one could say) that really means a lot :) While I'm here, I'd also like to apologise for my terrible updating schedule...I'm currently on a little vacation with my family, so it's a bit hard to find time to type during the day! Thank you for putting up with me!!
> 
> Oh, also, this is super random (not a surprise there) but I'm super happy because I found the new MJ pop figure today!! Of course I bought it immediately (Duh. I think my exact words were: please take my money) and she's adorable and I love her ;)
> 
> ANYway, onto chapter 4, then, I guess! Interesting wedding stuff happens!!

  
  


Peter couldn’t stop sweating. 

 

He stupidly told May this and she scolded him, because he was currently wearing an extremely expensive rented tux that she had just purchased mere hours earlier. If he ruined it, she stated that he would (and I quote) “not be going to Paris, and the suit money would be taken straight out of his wallet (every last penny, and then some),  _ and _ he would grounded until he turned 35.” (if you couldn’t tell, May was quite proud of her suit-choosing abilities, and was not about to let Peter’s overly-active sweat glands ruin this for her).

 

Obviously; it was the night of the wedding. So, clearly, Peter would be sweating profusely from nerves. Even more so because the apartment was hot, and suits like this don’t exactly breathe well. He forced himself to calm down, which seemingly made it worse, because his breathing grew increasingly more shallow, and his pulse was now racing from the effort.

 

He really shouldn’t be as nervous as he was. He’d gone over everything he needed to know for the wedding with May in the hours preceding this very moment; she’d helped with dancing techniques (much like she had for his homecoming), explained how the wedding would commence, and what Peter had to do if MJ should attempt to slow-dance with him (even though he stated  _ profusely  _ that would never happen. Ever).

 

Even through all this, Peter was still a nervous, dorky wreck, and he hadn’t even got to the wedding yet. He watched as May straightened his collar, smoothed the front of his suit, and quickly licked her thumb to buff out a scuff-mark on his dress shoe, before stepping back to look at her work. She squinted. 

 

“Do I look less like an idiot than usual?” He joked casually, but his laughter had an edge of nervousness to it. May smiled.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t go  _ that _ far,” she responded cheekily, grinning, and Peter let out a mock-gasp of offense. “No, Pete, you look so handsome,” she reassured, and Peter swore he saw her eyes glistening in the dim lighting.

 

“Are you  _ crying _ ?” He asked with a disbelieved gasp, which he assumed she’d laugh at, but instead more tears began rolling down her cheeks. Peter’s smile immediately disappeared. “May, I’m sorry, I-”

 

She cut him off with a raised hand in front of his face, cradling her own forehead with her thumb and forefinger. She inhaled shakily, and looked up at Peter with a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just… your Uncle Ben wore a suit so similar to that on one of our first dates. I didn’t even realize how similar you two look in it ‘till now,” she murmured. Peter said nothing, just stepped forward with his arms outstretched. She moved into the hug gratefully. 

 

They stood like that for a while, May’s arms wrapped around Peter while his head rested on top of hers. His poor aunt; she had been through so much. And she was still so young. Peter didn’t even think about how everything going on now also affected her too.

 

Suddenly, she broke off, raising her eyebrow and wiping her eye with her sleeve. “Isn’t your date going to be here soon?” She asked, jerking a thumb towards the front door. Peter sprung up with sudden realization.

 

“Shit-I mean,  _ crap _ ,- you’re right,” Peter squeaked out, stumbling away to grab his phone, smooth his hair, and check for any messages from his “date” (yes, he decided he liked the way that sounded. Had a nice ring to it.) Sure enough, a text bubble had popped up on his screen.

  
  


_ MJ: I’ll be there in five, loser. _

  
  


Peter’s nerves went through the roof; he had no idea what MJ would be wearing, only knowing it was going to be navy blue (she’d told him this over text, complaining about how she had no idea where in hell she was going to find a navy-blue bridesmaid dress in just a few days. Hence Peter’s matching dark blue suit). Aside from that point, Peter’s vivid imagination could only make up how her dress would look like in-person… on her. How that turned out for him? Let’s just say Peter really wasn’t able to think these things in public and appear calm.

 

A sudden ding of the doorbell which interrupted his thoughts, made Peter literally  _ jump  _ at least three feet in the air _ ,  _ and land on the ceiling. Upside down. Because when you’re Spider-man, things like that just happen.

 

“Peter, seriously. Get down,” May sighed, and Peter slowly flipped himself and dropped to the floor, his fingertips the last to leave the ceiling. He smiled, embarrassed. “Sorry, it startled me, that’s all,” he answered with a light chuckle, making his way towards the front door. He stopped, hand resting on the door handle, taking a deep breath. Suddenly, a hand on his arm made him pause his motions. Peter turned his head, and noticed May giving him a questioning look. 

 

“Peter… she doesn’t…  _ know, _ ” she lifted a hand, gesturing towards the ceiling where Peter was previously standing before she continued. “...about that. Does she?”

 

Peter hesitated before responding. No, he had not flat-out told MJ that he was Spider-man. But he had become increasingly more concerned as the weeks progressed; she would frequently make small comments about superheroes here and there, silently observing Peter and Ned’s exaggerated reactions to these small remarks. In the more recent days, she’d actually casually add the word “spider” into a sentence (which to this Peter actually choked on a carrot, resulting in a very panicked Ned attempting to perform the Heimlich Manoeuvre, nearly making Peter throw up. To all of this, MJ watched on with an unimpressed glare.) Because of this, Peter had grown worried that she had figured out his secret. To be fair, him and Ned weren’t the greatest at staying quiet about Peter’s spidey-business… their whispered conversations often grew much louder than intended. Honestly, he was surprised that more people hadn’t found out yet.

 

“...No?” He responded quietly, his answering tone tilting up at the end, making it more of a question than an answer. “I haven’t told her,” he added honestly.

 

“Okay,” she replied with a smile, moving the hand off his arm. “Oh, you get the door; let me grab the wedding gift,” she dashed off towards her room. “Oh, and remember: Tony’s supposed to call you tonight about that mission next weekend! Let’s hope he waits until  _ after  _ the wedding!” She added. Peter sighed. Right; he was soon going to be meeting with some of the available  avengers to discuss the sudden disappearance of many infamous criminals around NYC. Things like that wouldn’t normally be that concerning, but there had also been the occurance of more alien technology in-use as well. They had to put a stop to this before someone like Liz’s dad got their hands on it. Again. 

 

Hopefully his boss’s timing would work out well at least for tonight. Peter nodded in agreement before he turned his head back to the closed piece of wood. He inhaled again, pulling it open slowly.

 

Jesus Christ.

 

The girl- no, the  _ woman _ \- currently standing in the hallway, arms crossed and a bored expression on her face, was absolutely breathtaking. Stunning. Fucking gorgeous.

 

Hell, he didn’t enjoy making girls seem objectified or anything, but MJ was a literal fucking goddess, seemingly sculped from clay by God himself.

 

Damn right, her dress was navy blue. And if any colour was her colour, navy blue was  _ it _ . The dress was exactly knee-length, and had a flow that rippled it like waves when she moved. The fabric was shimmery, but not sparkly; it was more like the fabric itself emitted its own sort of glow when the dim lighting hit it just right. The dress was tight, flush against her body, highlighting  _ every _ curve and angle. So much so, that Peter had to force himself to stop staring, to avoid being labeled as a  _ pervert  _ as well as a loser. The neckline and shape was simple yet elegant, and a slit in the dress that curved up to her left hip drew his eyes along the flawless skin of her legs, having him craving to see more. Her heels were semi-high and silver; if these two teen’s height difference wasn’t obvious before, it sure as hell was now.

 

As for MJ’s face? As gorgeous as ever. She had added a touch of light pink lipgloss, a sweep of eyeliner, and some false lashes that fluttered when she blinked, only accentuating her natural beauty. Her hair was pinned back in a half-up-half-down style, and the clip used to sweep the hair away from her face perfectly matched her heels.

 

Holy shit, he was falling hard for this girl. So damn hard.

 

After a few moments, he realized he had been accidentally staring for way too long, and his jaw was probably permanently damaged from how far it was hanging open. MJ almost looked self-conscious at his reaction, so he managed to stammer out some form of the english language in a feeble attempt to reassure her.

 

“You. Dress. Um. Wow,” he breathed, eyes wide. (Okay, he was trying his best given the circumstances. Give him some credit.)

 

MJ suddenly looked down, awkwardly straightening the bottom of her dress.

 

“Thanks, dork,” she mumbled in response with a small smile. She looked back at him, meeting his gaze with sudden confidence and a shrug. “Your english needs work, but you clean up nicely yourself.”

 

Peter wasn’t entirely sure if the girl of his dreams had just complimented him, but he didn’t have a chance to ask because May came up behind him, holding their wedding gift.

 

“Oh, MJ, you look gorgeous,” she gushed happily, smiling as she shoved the envelope into Peter’s arms. “Oh my God, the dress is beautiful,” she remarked, moving closer to admire the material.

 

“Thank you,” MJ replied with a laugh, before nodding towards Peter. “Nice suit,” she commented.

 

“T-thanks,” he replied, still wide-eyed in shock. Before he knew it, May was shooing both of them out the door, stating she would take pictures afterwards or else they’d be late. She blew them both kisses goodbye before shutting the door behind them, leaving the two teens in awkward hallway-silence.

 

“Your aunt is quite the character,” MJ admitted, scratching the bridge of her nose.

 

“That’s for sure,” Peter replied with an uncomfortable laugh. They were silent for a moment before Peter awkwardly passed MJ the small envelope. “Uh, here. The present. For the wedding.”

 

MJ rolled her eyes, taking it. “Oh, and I thought it was for me,” she teased, looking it over. “What is it?” 

 

“...money?” Peter responded, quirking his eyebrow.

 

“Right. Dumb question,” she huffed, tapping herself on the head with the envelope before turning and starting down the hall. “Alright, c’mon. I’m not going to be late for this wedding, so you better show me just  _ how  _ fast you can walk, Parker,” she called over her shoulder, amused. “So; chop-chop.”

 

Peter smiled, shaking his head as he jogged down the hallway to catch up.

 

God, MJ was something else.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

After an incredibly awkward car ride to the wedding in MJ’s mom’s car (partially awkward because Peter’s just a hopeless dork, and partially because her parents didn’t know that  _ he  _ knew what was going on in MJ’s dysfunctional family. But mainly because he’s a dork.) 

 

They finally arrived at the venue, as fast as MJ’s mom’s beat-up old car could go. The place was already mostly full, so they spent a few minutes saying hello to the other guests. This included the other bridesmaids, who all wore varying shades of colours in the rainbow, and MJ fit in perfectly right between her cousin wearing indigo, and her younger cousin clothed in a lighter shade of blue. But just as much as she matched a fit in, MJ stood out ten times more than any of the other bridesmaids (well, maybe that was just Peter being biased. But still). 

 

They intermingled with the guests for a few minutes before some background music started playing and they decided to move off to the side to sip some punch. Peter glanced around casually, tapping his foot. He was still waiting for that call from Tony, and he _ wasn’t  _ going to take it during the ceremony. He seriously hoped that his boss’s timing would be better than usual.  Suddenly, his eyes zeroed in on someone far across the room.

 

“You’re shitting me,” he mumbled, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief, forgetting about the phone call. MJ gave him a concerned look, holding her cup to her lips. 

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, looking out at the crowd anxiously.

 

“ _ Flash  _ is here??” He whisper-shouted in response, gesturing with his cup towards the back end of the venue. Sure enough, attempting to do the shimmy while wearing an awful canary-yellow suit was none other than Flash Thompson. His date seemed to be one of the bridesmaids, the blonde-haired one sporting a better shade of yellow than the teen dancing beside her. The male in question was also attempting to make the colour work by pairing it with equally horrible dress shoes (newsflash- it didn’t work).

 

“Oh, hah, yeah. Forgot to mention that,” MJ snorted in response, taking another swig of her drink. Peter gave her a side-glance of confusion, prompting her to continue. “The bridesmaid in yellow is Tracy; my aunt’s fiance’s niece. I’ve met her before, nice girl. She didn’t have a date to the wedding so I told her about some people on our decath team. Unfortunately I also showed her some pictures and she claimed that Flash was ‘kinda hot’,” MJ explained, wrinkling her nose in disgust before continuing. “I warned her, but she insisted on meeting him. Flash, being the lonely, attention-seeking little bitch that he is, of course agreed to come to the wedding,” she finished, death-staring Flash from across the room. Peter laughed.

 

“Are you  _ serious _ ?” He asked, wide-eyed. MJ nodded with a grimace. “But… he’s wearing a fedora…? And he looks like someone’s drunk uncle…?” Peter added.

 

“I know,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “But he sucked up to Tracy’s parents, so now they love him, which means my aunt’s fiancee now loves him too.”

 

“Speaking of which… where is the lucky groom? I haven’t seen him at all yet,” Peter asked jokingly, squinting his eyes to look out at the crowd. This was true; they had met up with MJ’s aunt when they first arrived before she was hustled away by some ladies to finish getting ready. The groom was nowhere to be seen. 

 

In response, MJ simply raised her eyebrows and smirked mischievously, taking another sip of her punch. Before he could question this, they were called over by MJ’s grandmother to start the wedding. MJ beckoned him forward, setting her drink down and turning on her heel as she went to sit down. Much like that time on the roof, as she took her seat, she jokingly patted the one beside her for Peter to sit down too. He smiled, exhaling as he took the seat beside her.

 

The chairs were sorta small and close together, so Peter’s right hip and leg were pressed against MJ’s left. He attempted to breathe normally. He forced himself to focus on the wedding as it commenced, but that was extremely hard when his crush was so close to him that he could smell the fruit punch on her breath. Eventually Peter was mostly able to let himself get lost in the short words of introduction from MJ’s grandmother, until she fell silent and backed up with a smile as soft organ music began playing, and the family members began making their way up the aisle. Peter was quickly filled with confusion as MJ’s aunt, clad in an elegant wedding dress, was one of the first up, stepping towards the altar. He glanced at MJ, but she merely kept her gaze on the bride with a small half-smile. What was going on? The rest of the onlookers seemed confused as well; exchanging concerned glances.

 

The rest of the ceremony continued as per usual, so Peter brushed off the odd order of the wedding attendees, until it was time for the bride to arrive… even though she was already there? Then where was the groom?

 

Suddenly it all made sense. Another woman made her way up the aisle, also dressed in an elegant wedding gown, smiling through tears. There wasn’t a bride and a groom… there were two brides! And that’s why the bridesmaids and their dates were told to wear varying shades of the rainbow. Peter let out an “oohh” of realization along with the crowd, soon followed by clapping and some loud “whoops” of praise. Peter suddenly remembered MJ’s line about her slightly homophobic parents, and he turned his head to look for them. The expressions on their faces just displayed pure confusion. Peter laughed and turned back to face MJ.

 

“Who else knew?” He whispered into her ear, eyes wide. 

 

She snorted in response. “Just me, you idiot.” she replied, and Peter could hear the pride in her voice. He smiled. “That’s awesome,” he breathed.

 

They watched as the wedding progressed, ending in the two brides sharing a kiss and joining hands, smiling. The venue erupted in cheers, resulting in a standing ovation. This made MJ’s aunt burst into tears, which in turn made her wife start to cry, and eventually everyone was just a sobbing mess at that point. Peter just smiled through the whole thing, and MJ had her arms crossed in front of her chest, a smugly proud grin on her face. On another note, MJ’s parents were nowhere to be seen.

 

Moments later, all the chairs had been moved and stacked, pushed up against the walls of the venue. The brides were dancing to “All of Me” (a song which Peter personally enjoyed himself), whilst the guests watched on from the sidelines. A few couples had joined in after a while and Peter gave an awkward glance towards MJ, who was rocking on her heels. She seemed nervous.

 

“You okay?” He asked, cocking his eyebrow. She looked up, as if she hadn’t noticed he was watching her. She let out an embarrassed laugh. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I just… really like this song…” she admitted with a shrug, glancing out again at the crowd. Oh shit, this was perfect. Peter inhaled deeply, giving himself a mental pep talk. He cleared his throat, and waited until she turned to face him again before speaking up.

 

“Um, you wanna dance?”

 

He felt the blush creeping up his cheeks as he saw her give a small smile. “Sure, nerd,” she accepted lightly, moving closer to him.

 

Right.

 

They had to touch.

 

He tentatively placed his hands on her waist as May had instructed him to do, as she wound her arms loosely around his shoulders. She paused a moment before letting out a huff of exasperation.

 

“Peter, for christ’s sake, I’m not made of glass. You can hold me tighter,” and with that she let go of his neck for a moment to place her hands over his, wrapping them firmly around her waist. He was fairly sure he was tomato-red at this point, and looked away as MJ placed her hands around his neck again. 

 

The thing was, what she didn’t know was that she may as well be glass; to him and his super-human powers, she could have been injured by an accidental grab that was too tight,or a nervous squeeze. And he wasn’t about to hurt the girl he liked.

 

A broken hip could sure put a damper on the evening.

 

As they swayed slowly to the music, moving in silence, Peter spoke up. “So, what do your parents think of all this?”

 

She snorted. “As long as Aunt Frieda is happy, I couldn’t give two shits about what my parents think,” she responded with a shrug, meeting his gaze. Jesus christ, those eyes. “I think they’re mostly mad about the fact that no one told them before tonight.”

 

Peter nodded in agreement. “Nice surprise, though,” he commented. He felt her hand adjust the grip on his neck. He wondered if she could feel the heat pulsating through his skin. Probably.

 

“For most people,” she murmured lightly, moving her gaze back out to the crowd. Peter followed her eyes, landing his gaze on Flash, who was staring at them intently.

 

“Whoooo hoo, Penis Parker is gettin some!” He called out, just loud enough for Peter to hear. The look on Tracy’s face, who was dancing awkwardly beside him, told Peter that she seriously regretted thinking Flash was “kinda hot”.

 

MJ rolled her eyes, refraining from flipping him off yet again. Peter awkwardly coughed. “Flash will be Flash,” he muttered, raising his eyes to meet MJ’s. Hell, she really was tall. She gave a reluctant nod of agreement, before seeming to notice the height difference herself. She gave an inward sigh.

 

“As much as I enjoy being, like, a foot taller than you, Parker, I really fucking hate heels,” she admitted. With that, she kicked them off one-by-one, before standing up straight again. “Much better.”

 

She was still slightly taller than him, but with Peter in dress shoes and her being barefoot, it was like a fraction of an inch difference. It was now that Peter realized how close their faces were. As if somehow they had moved together, gravitated towards each other unintentionally. Peter gazed into her eyes, and she stared back with the same intensity. The music seemed to disappear, and the sound of people chatting went along with it. The only thing Peter was aware of was the sound of MJ’s quickened breathing, and the feel of her rapid pulse under his had.

 

A strand of curls fell in front of her face, and before she could reach her hand to fix it, Peter moved his own up from MJ’s waist, and gently lifted it to tuck the hair behind her ear. His movements were filled with such tenderness, and the gesture was somehow so intimate that it made Peter blush even harder. When he looked down at MJ’s cheeks, he noticed a slight flush of pink forming there too. Was she… blushing?   
  


“Peter, I-” she started quietly, swallowing before she continued. His gaze prompted her to finish her sentence. But as she opened her mouth to speak again, the annoying sound of the classic apple phone ringtone interrupted-… whatever she was about to say.

 

Fuck.

 

“You should probably take that,” MJ responded blankly with an exhausted sigh, stepping back and releasing her grip from his neck, which had tightened since they first attached. The loss of warmth from where her hands rested was physically painful, and Peter winced internally. “Never know who could be calling.”

 

He couldn’t be sure if her words hinted to something more than just a casual remark, but he didn’t have time to think because the irritatingly unrelenting ringtone continued sounding and he had to silence it before it distrubed the entire wedding. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his phone and checking the caller. Sure enough, the large letters read Tony Stark’s name, glaringly bright. The background of the caller id was an extreme closeup of Tony with a surprised and annoyed look on his face, taken after he had refused to smile for the camera. It wasn’t that funny now that he was looking at it. “I, uh, I gotta take this, I’m so sor-”

 

“Just  _ go _ , Peter,” MJ mumbled in response, crossing her arms. 

 

“Just go,” she repeated quieter, looking away. Peter wanted to reach out and reassure her, tell her how much he truly cared about her. But this damn phone was still ringing.

 

“MJ, I really am sorry... it’s just, this is super important,” he said honestly, desperately hoping for her to give some form of MJ-esque emotion. A dramatic eyeroll. A scoff. Anything.

 

Anything.

 

“I’m sure it is,” she muttered simply, bending over to grab her shoes. Peter hated himself so much in that moment, because she gave him a glance filled with so much hurt before turning and walking away, leaving Peter alone with his ringing phone. He bit his lip, spinning the other way and speed-walking out the door. He clicked the accept call button.

 

“This better be good.”

 

\-----------------------------------

 

After the most horrible and excruciatingly boring meeting with the Avengers that Peter had ever been in, (he thought that was something he’d never say) he was swinging his way back to the wedding. The meeting was only about 45 minutes long, but since the whole time the only thing on his mind was the girl he ditched, it seemed much longer. The meeting was also non-productive; they had found where the villains had been hiding out, but they weren’t planning on doing the ambush until the next weekend anyway. Pointless, in Peter’s opinion. He was uncharacteristically bitter throughout the whole thing. So, the second Tony called it a day, he had pulled on his spidey-suit and slung himself out the door. 

 

As he whipped through the city, he noticed something strange; he was passing by MJ’s balcony and with a quick glance, noticed some movement. He frowned, dropping down onto a rooftop about three blocks away.

 

“Karen, activate enhanced reconissence mode,” he murmured quietly. 

 

“Of course,” the robotic voice of his suit responded. With a small whiz, the eyes on his suit narrowed in on the small balcony. MJ was clad in her casual pajamas, sat with her feet up on a small table, reading a book. She had left the wedding.

 

“Dammit,” Peter cursed, attaching his web to the building next door, and landing on top of a smokestack he quickly changed into his regular clothes, not really caring at this point if someone saw him. He quickly fumbled with his web shooter, picking it up and swinging himself over to the fire escape down below, shoving his suit into his bag. He tossed the web shooter in too, slinging the bag over his shoulder as he raced up the stairs.

 

When he reached MJ’s floor, she already had her eyes trained  on him, her arms crossed. 

 

“Why are you here?” She mumbled, unimpressed.

 

“Why aren’t you at the wedding?” He replied with his own question. MJ’s eyes narrowed.

 

“No point in staying when my date ditched me,” she responded icily. Peter didn’t even have the chance to enjoy the fact that she just called him her date.

 

“MJ, I’m so so sorry, it’s just the thing with Mr. Stark, and I-”

 

“No, stop.” MJ cut him off, standing up stiffly. “It’s always _something_ , Peter. When you say you’ll make it to practice. When you promise you’ll be there to study. When you say I can count on you, there’s always _something_ ,” she continued, clenching her jaw. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s going on Peter? You can trust me, a-and I really want to know what the fuck is happening with you” she added, her voice wavering. She swallowed thickly, her gaze turning to her socked feet. “Don’t you understand how much I care about you?”

 

They were both silent for many unbearable moments after that. Peter, because he couldn’t believe what she just said, and how much he had hurt her. MJ, because she had just revealed her feelings for him and wasn’t sure how he’d react. Peter inhaled before he spoke.

 

“MJ, I-” he whispered, and she looked up, hope and pain tinting her eyes. “I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, I just…” he gulped. “I can’t.”

 

When he tilted his head to glance over at her, he actually saw that her brown eyes were glistening with moisture. She wiped her face with her sleeve, swiping away the tears. She sniffed.

 

“Fuck, you know what, whatever,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I was stupid to say that. But you know what, I thought you cared about me too,” she whispered shakily. “I’m such an idiot.”

 

“No, MJ. Wait,” Peter reached forward, grabbing her arm, willing her to stay. Her eyes locked on his hand. “I do care about you. More than you know.”

 

She pulled her arm away gently, leaving his hand desperately hanging. It dropped to his side. She shook her head. “No, you don’t. I’m not Liz. And I’m not just going to be some girl you can play with. So don’t test me, Peter.”

 

He widened his eyes. “No, no,no,” he stammered out. MJ stood in the doorway, halfway inside, half out. He  _ had  _ to make her stay. He had to. “Liz was… different. It was stupid and that was never going to happen.”

 

“I’m the easy way out, then,” she finished quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

Fuck, she was going to leave. Peter realized he was just digging a hole and burying himself deeper.

 

“No, MJ,” he said desperately. “You’re everything.”

 

She stiffened her jaw even more. “Peter, don’t… don’t do that to me,” she said angrily, opening the door wider. “Just go.”

 

With that, she stepped inside, shutting the door and locking it behind her, enveloping herself in the darkness of her apartment.

 

Peter was left standing alone, helpless on her balcony. He swallowed, forcing himself to keep his tears in. He slumped back against the railing, holding his face in his hands. Through his fingers, he could read the spine of the book she had been reading.

 

“The Second Sex.”

 

Ironic, seeing as that was the sex he had just completely and utterly messed up with. There was probably no way she was ever going to speak with him ever again. 

 

Fuck.

 

What was he going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEK yes, I incorperated some lesbian pride for pride month!! I'm really happy I did, because I love the two wives with my whole heart. If anyone has a problem with that, no one's forcing you to stay ;) OH and the reason I chose the wedding dance song to be All of Me is partly because the song rocks, but also because Zendaya has done a beautiful cover of it with Kurt Hugo Schneider and Max (no last name, I believe), so if you haven't already heard it I DEFINITELY recommend checkin that out
> 
> Y'all, it's finally happened; our girl has (mostly) confessed her feelings to Peter!!!! But, alas, he's being a little fuckin' nerd who needs to get his shit together and realize that the girl of his dreams has been under his nose the whole time and truly likes him back. Which means he actually needs to focus on how to make this work. If not, he could lose her forever. *gasps dramatically*
> 
> PARIS IS UP NEXT, PEOPLE, and you know what they say... it's the city of love *wink wink* so for the sake of our two favourite nerds, let's hope Peter can figure out what to do to show MJ that he really cares about her.
> 
> Alas, that also means, for better or for worse, this fic is coming to an end :( . Although that comes to a total of merely 5 chapters, this has been one heck of a journey with all of you, and I loved every moment of it. You guys are so supportive, thank you. Therefore... stay tuned for the fifth and final chapter of "You're My Loser"! I'm excited and sad at the same time, haha. 
> 
> See you there!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it, you guys!! The fifth and final chapter of "You're My Loser"! (Just in time... right before Spider-Man Far From Home, might I add)
> 
> I'm so excited! But at the same time, I'm sad that this is coming to an end. This has been a wild ride with all of you, and I'm so glad every single one of you have been here, reading along! Your kind comments and endless support has helped me so much, and I'm so grateful.
> 
> Now, I won't say too much more (I'll let you start reading), but all I'm going to say is to be prepared for a very sad Peter, A very exasperated Ned, and a very... well, you might as well start reading to see how MJ's doing ;)
> 
> (Oh, also: Happy Canada Day to all my fellow Canadians! *blasts the national anthem at full volume*)

It was a sad few weeks after that for our resident nerd, Peter Parker.

 

MJ refused to speak with him which he knew he deserved. She had taken to sitting in the library during lunch, and purposely switching lab groups during biology, which hurt more than any physical wound Peter had ever received. 

 

He had been more of a dick to MJ than Flash ever had, which was saying something.

 

There were no more playful middle-finger-giving in the halls. No more adorable scowls. Peter noticed that MJ rarely made witty remarks at all during the day, and she ran decath meetings with a dry, bored attitude which Peter  _ knew  _ was caused by him.

 

It felt like being shot in the chest, being dropped off a building, and having his heart shoved into a paper shredder, piece by piece.

 

Multiplied by 3000. 

 

Dramatic? Yes. 

 

Accurate? Absolutely.

 

It was the worst pain he had ever felt.

 

And keep in mind, he fought criminals for a living.

 

Another thing; MJ had been hiding out in detention more often than usual, in order to directly avoid meeting Peter and Ned for study/movie nights. (which, yes, she had recently became accustomed to joining their nerd-group of two, and therefore turning it into a trio. Ned wasn’t very happy with that, but with Peter’s puppy-eyed pleading, he finally gave in)

 

Peter often glanced into the detention room as he passed by at the end of the day, and would see MJ at the back, her head buried in her sketchbook, intent on drawing “people in crisis” as she had so ominously put it before. If by chance she would glance up and notice him watching her, she’d catch his eye for a mere millisecond, before narrowing her gaze and quickly turning it back to her book. He wanted to cry every time she did that; knowing he had hurt her was literally the worst thing he had ever felt.

 

Ned had attempted to console Peter by telling him it was fine; they didn’t need her pessimistic attitude spoiling their lego fun-times anyway. But that was the very attitude that Peter craved every day. It was what he needed. Peter groaned at this, slumping farther into his chair, sending a very confused Ned into fits of, “wait, Peter, I’m sorry, was I not supposed to say that?”

 

May, on the other hand, was almost as upset as Peter. He knew how much she enjoyed the presence of his snarky, quick-witted friend/crush, so the fact that MJ was on a Peter-strike made Aunt May sad too. When he told her the news after the night of the wedding, she pulled him into a hug and told him that it would be alright; if she really did care about him like she had said, MJ wouldn’t give up on him that easily.

 

He desperately hoped May was right.

 

As for Tony? First off, the initial crush reveal was awkward on its own; a result of May chatting with Tony one day and unknowingly bringing up MJ. Soon after, Tony had come up to Peter and so flat-out asked who the fuck she was, that he grew flustered and blurted out “girl, friend, crush,” all at once. Tony wasn’t impressed. But, if May accepted her, and Peter liked her, then so did he.

 

But after the whole Peter-being-a-total-dick thing went down, he bluntly told Peter over the phone that young love was something fragile and almost never worked out, so it was a good thing that he got it over with as soon as possible. But he felt bad after because Peter started crying, so later that day he sent some cookies that Pepper had baked, along with a two-word apology note (“sorry, kid”). About as sentimental Tony would ever get.

 

And as if these passing days weren’t bad enough, two weeks after the wedding incident, an exchange student named Brad Davis had moved to NYC, therefore coming to Midtown Tech. Brad himself wasn’t so bad, but Peter noticed how incredibly smart he was, and that he had decided to ask to join the decathlon team. Michelle happily obliged, and Peter couldn’t be sure if it was because she had developed a crush on their exotic new classmate.

 

He desperately hoped not.

 

But the looks she gave  _ Brad  _ during practice made him think his prediction was, indeed, correct.

 

Fuck.

 

After an agonizing couple weeks of this MJ-less world, Peter realized that the trip to Paris was approaching incredibly fast. 

 

Huh. He was so caught up in this whirlwind of emotions that he hadn’t even noticed. 

 

Thank god Ned shot him a cringe-inducing “Excited for Paris,  _ mon ami _ ?” Text along with a gif (consisting of a badly photoshopped man in front of the Eiffel Tower, twirling his mustache whilst wearing a lopsided beret) or else Peter would have completely forgotten to bring his form. Not like it really mattered anyway; the only real reason he wanted to go to Paris was to spend time with the girl he loved, but now she wouldn’t even meet his eye. At least he had Ned.

 

Oh and also Brad was going.

 

Stupid Brad.

 

Stupid, smart, apparently-handsome Brad that MJ most likely had a crush on.

 

Why did it have to be  _ Brad _ ???

 

\------------------------------

 

After an almost-annoyingly long hug from Aunt May and profuse reminders for Peter to text, call, and email on a daily basis, Peter finally made it into the school. It was bright and early at 5:30 a.m. the morning of the Paris trip. He reminded May that he would only be gone for a week, and that meant she’d also have the whole apartment to herself, yay!

 

Bad move on Peter’s part to tell her that. She started crying for the probably the 7th time that morning, so he had to hug her again to make her stop. 

 

...for probably the 7th time that morning.

 

After getting out of the car (containing a still sad -and jealous- Aunt May), Peter made his way over to his classmates who were standing around outside. They seemingly had been waiting for him (unsurprisingly) so they could load the bus. His gaze immediately rested on MJ, leaned against the bus, chatting with…

 

Brad. 

 

He barely had time to sulk because Flash’s annoying voice piped up overtop of the excited chatter. 

 

“Heyy, look who finally made it! Penis Parker,” he shouted with a grin. “You’re late, which means you’re  _ not _ coming. Mr. Harrington, can I give him detention?”

 

“Uh, actually, Flash, that’s not in the rulebook. At all,” Mr. Harrington’s dead-pan voice responded. He was wearing a beret. A possible attempt to become one with the Parisian culture they were about to experience? “And he’s not late. It’s just 5:30 now. Anyway, let’s head out before my wife asks where I’m going,” he continued, before stepping onto the bus, letting the team trail behind him. Flash pouted, whilst Peter gave a concerned look towards their teacher. 

 

“Thank God you’re here, I thought Mr. Tony Stark needed you for a mission or something and I’d have to sit with Flash,” Ned piped up, coming over to Peter. His voice was much louder than a whisper.

 

“Ned, shut up,” he hissed. “And stop calling him Mr. Tony Stark, just call him Tony.”

 

“I don’t want to be disrespectful to Iron Man…” Ned protested, his volume lowering the slightest bit. Peter rolled his eyes as he shoved his small suitcase in the luggage compartment of the bus. “Seriously, though; how are things going with, y’know…” he lowered his voice, glancing around before continuing. “ _ The Avengers? _ ”

 

Peter shrugged as they boarded the bus, taking the seat at the very back row. “We had to postpone the ambush again. We somehow lost sight of the villians,” he mumbled half-heartedly.

 

“Huh, and with all the high-tech equipment, I didn’t think that was possible,” Ned mused, his nerdiness showing, as he turned his gaze out the window. He twisted back to face Peter. “And, uh, how are things going with  _ you-know-who? _ ”

 

Peter simply jerked a thumb in the direction of the girl in question as his response; she was seated a few rows ahead of them, sketchbook in hand, a stack of books under her seat. She was seated beside- can you guess who?- none other than Brad.

 

Seriously; Peter had nothing against Brad  _ personally _ , but like, c’mon.

 

Fuck Brad.

 

Brad was a dumb name anyway.

 

“Ah, I see. Sorry, dude. Thought this would’ve blown over by now,” Ned offered, sympathetically.

 

Peter snorted. “I wish,” he responded, his gaze never leaving MJ. He longed to stride over, profusely apologize for treating her like shit, and, yes, kiss her.

 

Oh God, how he wanted to kiss her. Ever since he realized he liked MJ more than just a friend way, he had wanted nothing more than to lace his fingers behind her head, tangling through her curly locks, while the other hand snaked down to the small of her back. He desperately wanted to feel those lips against his. He often wondered what it felt like.

 

That fantasy felt light-years away now.

 

He sighed, propping his head up on his head which rested on the arm rest. He gazed over at the girl that he was pretty sure he was in love with, and let out another sigh; this one could probably be described as “love-sick”.

 

“Peter, please stop, you sound depressed,” Ned complained as the bus started rumbling, pulling out of the school’s parking lot. The excited chatting from the other team members grew louder.

 

“I  _ am  _ depressed,” he mumbled, lifting his arm from its place on the arm rest and buried his face in his hands.

 

Ned let out an audible groan.

 

“If you’re gonna act like this the  _ entire  _ trip, I swear I will actually go hang out with Flash,” he stated, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

 

Peter sighed again.

 

—————————————

 

They soon made it to the airport and boarded the plane, shortly departing en-route to Paris, France. On the ride, Peter made note of the fact that;

-Ned made a Star Wars reference 8 times

-Mr. Harrington made 7 ominously concerning statements about his wife

-MJ giggled at Brad 6 times (since when did she giggle??)

-Betty came over to talk to Ned 5 times (what was  _ that  _ all about??)

-MJ read through 4 hardcover books when she wasn’t chatting with Brad

-Ned slept (and snored) 3 times (when he wasn’t referencing Star Wars or talking to Betty)

-Flash threw up twice

-Peter smiled once (when Flash threw up the first time cause it was really funny)

 

Jeez, this was starting to sound like that annoyingly repetitive Christmas song about partridges and pear trees.

 

When the excruciatingly painful flight was finally over, the team took a shuttle over to their hotel, an old, rickety building only about a block from the Eiffel Tower itself. They were told to unpack their things, and were free to roam the streets a bit before their 9:00 curfew (they did have finals the next day, after all).

 

Peter and Ned dragged their suitcases up to the 4th floor of the hotel (girls were on the 5th) and flopped their belongings onto the two beds.

 

Ned dropped back onto his designated bed with a sigh. “So! Would you like to explore the city?” He asked, lazily interlocking his fingers behind his head. “It could be cool,” he added with a shrug. 

 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, that might be a good idea anyway… y’know, help keep my mind off MJ,” he said with a sigh.

 

“ _ Also,”  _ Ned added dramatically. “It would be just a fun bro-activity? Guy in the chair and his other half?”

 

Peter smirked. “I think you mean  _ better  _ half,” he stated with a grin and Ned gasped.

 

“Excuse you, but without  _ me _ , you’d probably be dead,”  Ned shot back, standing up as he grabbed his backpack and started heading towards the door.

 

Peter smirked and followed. “Without  _ me  _ you wouldn’t have a  _ job _ ,’ he mused, matter-of-factly. 

 

As they made their way out the door, Ned shoved Peter’s side in a friendly-gesture before coming back with his response. “I’m working for free, so consider me a blessing to you, Peter.”

 

He rolled his eyes with a chuckle as he followed his best friend. He was already starting to feel better.

 

———————————

 

That was, until they made it back to their room a few hours later and he had no choice but to think about the girl he had hurt. 

 

After Peter had sighed for probably the hundredth time while they watched TV that night in their jammies, chowing down on some microwave popcorn, Ned finally gave up.

 

“Peter, what is it  _ this  _ time?”

 

“You already know, Ned,” Peter responded icily, and Ned flinched at his tone. Peter groaned. “I’m sorry, it’s just, MJ… I… I hurt her so much. I let her down when I said she could count on me. And it’s so painful to know I caused her to act so dry and out of character lately.”

 

Ned rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Peter. There’s literally nothing stopping you from getting her back and apologizing. I’m not letting you live like this forever. And I’d rather not have you depressed for your entire life.”

 

Peter paused, mid-popcorn bite. Ned was right. He had been avoiding MJ for so long, thinking distance would fix this. He didn’t really stop to think that trying to get through to her again just might work. He suddenly sprang up.

 

“You’re right,” he said, bending over to rummage through his suitcase. “I’m going to apologize to MJ.”

 

“Right  _ now _ ?” Ned asked, dumbfounded. “Peter, it’s the middle of the night, and you can’t go up to her room! Security’s going to get you in so much trouble!”

 

“Oh, I know,” Peter said, a determined look on his face as he pulled the item he was looking for out of his bag. “Not unless I go a different way.”

 

The Spider Suit hunt limp from his grasp. 

 

Ned rolled over on the bed with an amused groan. “Good luck, Spider-Man,” he said with a chuckle, shaking his head and turning up the volume on the TV. Peter gave a nod, pulling the mask over his head. “Thanks,”

 

“I’m going to need it.”

 

—————————

 

Peter swung up from his balcony moments later, attaching himself easily to the outer wall of the building. He gave himself a quick inner pep-talk before pulling himself up by his fingertips and crawling up closer to the balconies above.

 

He let out a huff as he webbed onto the empty balcony above his head (he double-checked  _ and  _ triple checked that it was empty; no point in scaring more of his teammates than necessary) He quickly pulled himself up to get a better look around, glancing across the rows of short fence-like ridges. He was hoping for some way of telling which room was MJ’s.

 

Sure enough, almost immediately, he spotted a figure on a balcony three rows away.  _ MJ _ , he thought, noticing her sketchbook in-hand, curly hair framing her face, and wearing the same blue-and-yellow decath sweater she had worn all those nights ago.

 

The night she wasn’t mad at him.

 

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for some form of surprised outburst when he would drop onto her balcony. It’s not every day that the nerd who broke your heart shows up as Spiderman.

 

He swung overtop of the balconies before letting go and falling right in front of MJ. He barely made a noise. He stood up straight again, preparing to explain everything. She merely glanced up at him, the same bored expression on her face as she looked back to her sketchbook.

 

“Nice onesie.”

 

Of course she already knew. He coughed awkwardly.

 

“Um, MJ, I-“

 

She cut him off, raising an eyebrow as she spoke over him.

 

“Peter, you’re not supposed to be here. This is the  _ girls  _ floor,” she said, a challenging look in her eyes. But she wasn’t playing with him. He could tell she was still upset.

 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but this is important. Can we please go somewhere…” he glanced through the sliding glass door into her room, curious as to where her roommate was. “...private?”

 

“Betty’s in the shower, you’re fine. But she’ll be out soon,” she commented, noticing his worrisome gaze towards her room. “It’s a school night, Peter. And we have finals tomorrow. Now isn’t the time to be swinging around Paris.”

 

“MJ,  _ please,”  _ he begged, a desperate edge seeping into his tone. She glanced up at him, as though she noticed the change. He swallowed thickly. “I need to talk to you,” he whispered.

 

She sighed, biting her lip. She finally stood up, setting her book down on the chair she had been sitting on. “You have 5 minutes, Peter,” she warned him, stepping closer. “5 fucking minutes.”

 

He nodded, gesturing for her to come further towards him. “Of course, yeah, totally. Uh, you know how to… hold onto me, correct?”

 

“Peter, it’s not rocket science,” she said with an annoyed eye roll, coming to his side and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He bent his knees a bit to let her wrap her legs around his waist.

 

Peter gulped at the sudden feeling of her body pressed up against his. He allowed his mind to clear just enough to wrap one arm around her waist and position his other outstretched, ready to web onto another building just ahead of them.

 

“You ready?” He asked, glancing over at her face. It displayed no emotion, but he could sense her heartbeat quickening and breathing growing increasingly more shallow.

 

“Just do it, Peter,” she mumbled, looking away, gripping him tighter.

 

“Okay,” he huffed, jumping to stand on the railing. MJ took a sharp inhale as they perched precariously on the edge. 

 

“1,” he whispered, pulling her closer.

 

“2.” He shot the web out, attaching it onto the building.

 

“3!” They were tugged forward as the web caught hold of the building, pulling them from the railing. It felt the same as the first time he used his webs; freefalling as if you’ll never stop, before suddenly catching onto another structure and being yanked forwards again.

 

As they fell, MJ let out a shrill shriek, burying her face in Peter’s neck. He wanted to tell her they would be okay, that he would never let her fall. But the adrenaline coursing through his veins made it impossible to speak, only continue to race forward with determination. He webbed onto another building, zooming them past windows and storefronts.

 

He knew where they were headed.

 

And when MJ finally looked up to admire the view, she knew as well.

 

He let go of the web for a final time, landing both of them with a small thud on one of the outer metal landings of the Eiffel Tower.

 

MJ was a bit shaky as she let go of him to stand back on solid ground, so he kept his hold on her waist until he knew she could keep her balance. She turned to gaze out at the landscape below them, her breath catching in her throat as she grabbed hold of the railing.

 

“I’m p-pretty sure this is illegal,” she mumbled, her gaze locked on the ground far below them. Her knuckles were turning white from gripping the railing so hard.

 

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, genuinely concerned. He pulled off his mask, dropping it somewhere behind him.

 

She slowly turned to face him, and looked to her feet. “I don’t like heights,” she whispered, as if she was afraid to admit a weakness to him.

 

“I’m not going to let you fall,” he promised, moving closer to her. He gave a small half-smile. “What kind of superhero would I be to let an innocent citizen fall to her death?”

 

“Peter…” she warned, raising an eyebrow as she glanced up at him.

 

“I’m serious. You aren’t going to fall,” he said, widening his eyes for emphasis. He stepped forward cleaning his throat. “But, uh, I didn’t just bring you here for the view.”

 

MJ looked away. “I know.”

 

“MJ, I meant what I said before; I care about you so much. I’ve been such a dick, and I hate myself for hurting you,” he started, voice wavering with emotion. MJ refused to meet his gaze, playing with the strings of her sweater. 

 

“I wish I could take back what I did. But with Tony and all the missions, I couldn’t miss the meet-up. I wish I had,” as he spoke, she finally moved her gaze up to his eyes. Her’s were watery. He continued, forcing himself to keep going. “And with everything going on with you and Brad, and you not talking to me, it’s been horrible. I miss you so much, MJ. I just wish I could fix all of this. I-“

 

He was suddenly cut off by MJ, who swiftly moved closer to him, placing her hands on his cheeks. “Just shut up so I can kiss you,” she exhaled exasperatedly, pulling him in to press her lips against his. 

 

It was everything Peter could’ve dreamed of and more. He let out a surprised squeak, but he closed his eyes and let himself relax. As he moved his hands around her waist, deepening the kiss, it felt like heaven and hell had collided.

 

Like fire and ice at the same time.

 

It was like electricity; buzzing and energetic and coursing through his veins. 

 

He felt more alive than he had in a long time.

 

Like the energy and euphoria she gave him was something he needed to survive.

 

They had to part eventually, gasping for air. She pressed her forehead against his gently.

 

“I’m sorry for not talking to you, Peter,” she whispered, looking away. “I just thought… I don’t know, not seeing you would make it easier?”

 

He shook his head, moving his palm up to her cheek. “Don’t apologize. I deserved that,” he said with a weak chuckle. 

 

“No, Peter, you didn’t,” she said, biting her lip. “Because I really like you and I should’ve said it before. And I’m so selfish for getting mad… it’s not your fault that you’re Spider-Man,” she grinned.

 

“You knew,” he said, more of a statement than a question.

 

“I had my suspicions,” she said with a small nod, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Showing up dressed in that getup kinda proved it,” she added, sweeping her gaze up his body, making her point. Peter laughed, and she continued. “Wait… did you mention  _ Brad _ earlier?”

 

He nodded. “I thought… I don’t know, I thought there was something going on between you and him.”

 

She laughed, wrapping her arms tighter around his shoulders, clasping her hands behind his neck like she had the night of the wedding. “I like  _ you,  _ you idiot,” she stated, shaking her head in disbelief. 

 

“Good, because I like you too,” Peter said with a smile. “I was also wondering… I’m still a little worried that you might like  _ Flash  _ too…” he trailed off teasingly, and she narrowed her eyes. 

 

“You’re  _ such  _ a fuckin’ loser,” she breathed out, pulling him in again. But as soon as their lips touched, Peter pulled away gently, eyebrow raised.

 

“Wait a minute… we’ve been through all of this and I’m  _ still  _ a loser?”

 

MJ giggled, something he was proud to have made her do. He smiled as she looked down, embarrassed. He moved his hand to her chin, pulling her gaze up to his eyes. They lingered there for a moment, before she leaned in to press her forehead against his once again.

 

“Yeah,” she murmured gently, her breath fanning across his neck. “But you’re  _ my  _ loser,” she finished in a whisper, sending shivers down Peter’s spine.

 

This time, Peter was the one to lean in for a kiss.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now, folks. :) Peter and MJ have *finally* made-up (and made-out, might I add. That was a horrible joke. Let's move on.), Ned is most likely going to be happy for (and a little grossed-out by) his nerd friends, and May will absolutely be *thrilled* to hear that she'll now have MJ back to tag-team-roast poor Peter! As for Tony? Well, we might have some snark-battles in the making between our favourite Iron-dad and our best girl.
> 
> This was such a joy to write, and I hope you all felt the same while reading, you lovely people. I honestly want to hug every single one of you :)
> 
> Before I get going (being my sappy self), let me just say that you shouldn't be sad this is over!! I'm already planning out some oneshot ideas that shouldn't take me long to do!! I'm excited for you to continue this journey with me and have fun with those as well!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy watching Spider-Man Far From Home (for me, it's coming out tomorrow, woop woop!) and have an amazing day, night, afternoon, or whenever you're reading this! (I won't judge if you're seeing this at 3 o clock in the morning... I often do the same thing :) )
> 
> You're all wonderful people.
> 
> I love you 3000.
> 
> -yours truly, Kate <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed!!


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